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BR  1720  .C5  W5  1906 
Willey,  John  H.  b.  1854 
Chrysostom:  the  orator 


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TObu  gf  tte  fiingrlgm 


Chrysostom:  The  Orator 


By    , 

John  Heston  Willey, 


Author  of  "Back  to  Bethlehem." 
Member  New  York  State  His- 
torical Association. 


CINCINNATI:    JENNINGS  AND  GRAHAM 
NEW    YORK:    EATON     AND     MAINS 


Copyright,   1906,   by 
Jennings  &  Graham 


€xt  ^g  ^itikev 


CONTENTS 
Book  I 

Page 

THE  TIMES, 9 

Book  II 

THE  MAN, 27 

Preparation, 29 

Immolation,  ------  40 

Ordination, 60 

Exaltation, 82 

Repudiation,      - 114 

Translation, 125 

L'Envoi, 153 

Book  III 

THE  MESSAGE, 157 


BOOK  I 

THE  TIMES 


THE  TIMES. 

For  one  thousand  years  the  walls  of  Constanti- 
nople were  the  sole  guarantee  of  the  safety  of  Euro- 
pean civilization.  When  Constantine  drew  his  spear- 
point  along  the  Golden  Horn  and  thence  across  to 
the  Propontis,  he  was  fixing  the  cross  upon  St. 
Paul's  and  placing  the  Bible  in  American  homes. 
Two  miles  from  the  gate  of  ancient  Byzantium  his 
courtiers  reminded  him  that  he  had  already  ex- 
ceeded all  reasonable  limits.  His  familiar  reply  is 
characteristic,  though  traditional :  ''I  shall  go  on 
until  the  Invisible  Guide  who  marches  before  me  is 
ready  to  stop."  In  justice  to  Constantine  let  us  ad- 
mit that  he  is  not  authority  for  these  grandiose 
words.  Yet  he  claims  to  have  laid  the  foundation  of 
the  city  in  obedience  to  the  commands  of  God,  and 
a  vision  or  two  at  such  an  important  juncture  would 
not  have  been  entirely  out  of  his  line.  There  was, 
however,  in  his  choice  of  a  site  for  the  new  city,  the 
inspiration  of  superb  statesmanship,  the  prescience 
of  a  seer.  And  we  can  forgive  the  obstinacy  of  uni- 
versal custom  which  has  ignored  the  name  by  which 

9 


lo  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

it  was  intended  the  city  should  be  known,  that  of 
New  Rome,  and  has  called  it  after  its  illustrious 
founder. 

On  account  of  its  shape,  writers  have  compared 
the  city  to  an  ancient  drinking-horn,  the  mouth- 
piece turned  north  up  the  Bosporus;  but  rather 
does  it  resemble  a  gigantic  thumb  planted  at  the 
ford  of  the  two  continents,  holding  the  gateway  of 
empire,  and  dominating  the  East  and  the  West. 

Nearly  a  thousand  years  before  the  days  of  Con- 
stantine  this  site  had  attracted  attention.  A  little 
fugitive  band  of  Megarians  on  a  colonizing  expe- 
dition had  stopped  here  over  night.  The  oracle  of 
Apollo  at  Delphi  had  advised  them  to  ''build  their 
city  over  against  the  city  of  the  blind."  Just  across 
the  strait  was  Chalcedon,  founded  seventeen  years 
before.  Nothing  could  be  blinder,  argued  these 
shrewd  Megarians,  than  to  build  a  city  in  bleak, 
sea-swept  Bithynia,  when  Thrace  was  at  hand  with 
its  harbors  and  its  hills.  So  on  this  side  the  Bos- 
porus they  planted  their  stockades,  and  established 
a  rich  trade  in  the  corn  of  Scythia,  the  forests  of 
Paphlagonia,  the  mines  of  Transcaucasia,  and  in 
the  fish  which  to  the  present  day  sweep  down  from 
the  Black  Sea,  glide  into  the  Golden  Horn,  and 
there  wait  to  be  taken. 


The  Times.  h 

The  city  of  Byzantium,  with  its  two  gods,  one 
to  rule  the  sea  and  the  other  as  patron  of  the  corn- 
fields, changed  hands  at  least  nine  times  before  Con- 
stantine  pitched  his  tent  on  the  spot  where  afterward 
the  "Golden  Milestone"  was  to  stand.  Backward 
and  forward  over  its  broken  walls  surged  the  con- 
tending forces  of  the  East  and  the  West.  Persian 
and  Greek,  Macedonian  and  Roman  had  all  cov- 
eted this  strategic  spot,  and  had  been  willing  to  pay 
the  price  demanded  for  its  possession.  Then  came 
the  death  struggle  of  Paganism,  the  defeat  of  the  an- 
cient gods  at  Adrianople,  and  the  retreat  of  Licinius 
for  refuge  to  the  timely  shelter  of  these  friendly 
walls.  But  the  decree  was  written.  Great  Pan  was 
dead.  Helios  had  been  flung  from  his  "car  of  gold." 
"Idly  homeward  to  the  Poet-land"  had  gone  the 
gods.  Earth  had  outgrown  the  mystic  fancies.  The 
day  of  fact  and  of  force  had  come.  Byzantium  fell 
and  Constantine,  the  Christian,  became  master  of 
the  world. 

The  new  emperor  had  but  little  of  the  old  Roman 
about  him.  Born  in  Mcesia  of  a  Dalmatian  father, 
his  mother  the  daughter  of  an  alien  innkeeper,  the 
city  of  Rome  meant  to  him  just  what  it  was  worth 
in  the  soldier's  perspective.  Other  and  weaker  men 
might  reverence  its  traditions  and  court  a  triumph 


12  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

along-  its  sacred  way,  but  this  cold,  unsentimental 
strategist  saw  only  its  geographical  isolation  and  its 
tactical  weakness,  and  resolved  to  change  his  court. 
Several  towns  were  candidates  for  metropolitan 
honors.  Naissus,  in  the  heart  of  the  Balkan  penin- 
sula, was  a  strong  claimant,  for  here  Constantine 
was  born ;  but  Naissus  was  too  near  the  frontier  and 
had  no  sea  value.  Nicomedia,  the  modern  Ismid, 
at  the  head  of  the  long  quiet  gulf  opening  into  Mar- 
mora, was  also  mentioned.  But  Nicomedia  had 
been  the  residence  of  Diocletian,  and  Constantine 
was  not  ready  to  step  into  the  cast-off  shoes  of  a 
predecessor.  Troy  was  disqualified  because  Troy 
had  no  harbor,  and  the  world  was  learning  the  po- 
tency of  the  sea.  And  so  Byzantium  was  chosen, 
and  this  old  provincial  fortress,  this  last  port  of  call 
for  the  Eastern  world,  became  the  seat  of  govern- 
ment and  the  guardian  of  the  prophetic  West. 

It  was  high  time.  Yonder  in  the  East  was  Per- 
sia, a  constant  menace,  a  cloud  that  threatened  to 
break  at  any  moment.  On  the  farther  bank  of  the 
Euphrates,  Julian,  the  Roman  emperor,  burned  his 
ships  like  Agathocles,  the  Syracusan,  in  Africa,  and 
Cortez  in  Mexico.  He  would  conquer  Sapor  before 
he  crossed  again  the  great  river.  But  he  fell  in  the 
retreat  toward  his  own  boundaries.    For  four  years 


The  Times.  13 

did  Belisarius  plan  his  masterly  campaign  against 
Chosroes,  and  still  the  dark  menace  remained. 
Twenty  years  of  bloodshed  did  not  exhaust  the 
Eastern  giant.  Then  came  Shahrbarg,  and,  though 
the  puissant  Heraclius  was  on  the  Western  throne, 
Damascus  fell  and  Jerusalem  fell,  and  ninety  thou- 
sand Christians  were  slain,  and  the  remains  of  the 
"True  Cross"  were  carried  off  to  Persia. 

And  now,  when  Rome  and  Persia  were  alike  ex- 
hausted, a  new  rider  entered  the  lists.  From  the 
South  the  summons  came  to  Heraclius  and  to  Chos- 
roes ordering  them  to  embrace  Islam.  It  was  a  new 
gospel,  and  its  preachers  were  insistent  and  abrupt. 
Persia  replied  by  a  threat  to  put  Mahomet  in  chains 
should  he  ever  cross  the  border.  Constantinople 
passed  it  by  as  a  trifling  vagary,  idly  wondering  if 
here  might  not  be  an  ally  some  day. 

Then  out  of  the  desert  the  whirlwind  came.  It 
was  the  rush  of  the  simoon,  the  hot  avalanche  of 
swirling  sand,  and  nothing  could  stand  before  it. 
The  Roman  legions  were  hemmed  in,  overwhelmed, 
strangled.  The  Armenian  archers,  the  mailed 
horseman  from  Gaul,  the  solid  squares  of  trained 
infantry,  were  ground  into  dust  as  the  desert  hordes 
were  hurled  upon  them  under  the  slogan  "Paradise 
is    beyond    you;    hellfire    behind    you."     Antioch, 


14  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

Emesa,  Damascus,  Jerusalem  went  down.  The 
Mosque  of  Omar  was  builded  on  Mt.  Moriah;  the 
grain-fields  of  Egypt  were  cut  off  from  the  empire ; 
while  all  the  East  to  the  borders  of  India  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  Saracen. 

Civil  war  among  the  successors  of  the  prophet, 
however,  gave  the  empire  a  breathing  spell ;  but  in 
717  A.  D.  the  struggle  was  on  once  more.  This  was 
the  crisis  of  the  world.  Leo  the  Isaurian  was  on 
the  throne.  Theodosius  III  had  convened  the  sen- 
ate and  the  chief  officers,  and  had  declined  to  be  re- 
sponsible for  the  public  safety.  The  army  was  de- 
moralized, the  treasury  was  depleted,  the  greatness 
of  the  emperor  had  been  of  that  brand  which  is 
forced  upon  its  unlucky  recipient.  He  felt  more  at 
home  in  his  humble  commissioner's  office.  He  there- 
fore begged  to  be  excused  from  further  glory.  His 
unique  request  was  granted,  and  Leo,  the  soldier  and 
the  iconoclast,  was  offered  the  dubious,  uncertain 
honors  of  the  purple. 

Moslemah,  the  brother  of  the  caliph,  at  the  head 
of  eighty  thousand  men,  marched  through  Asia 
Minor,  crossed  the  Hellespont,  swung  to  the  right 
across  Thrace,  and  planted  his  flag  in  European 
soil.  lie  digged  his  ditches  about  the  walls,  raised 
his  engines,  and  sat  down  to  wait  the  sure  leaven  of 


Th^  Time:s.  15 

hunger  and  thirst  in  the  doomed  fortress.  At  the 
same  time  a  mighty  fleet  sailed  from  Syria,  effected 
a  junction  with  the  land  forces  at  Abydos,  and 
moved  upon  the  city.  By  land  and  by  sea  was  Con- 
stantinople beleaguered.  But  Constantine  had  fore- 
seen such  emergencies.  The  walls  were  impregna- 
ble. The  storehouses  were  full.  The  dread,  mys- 
terious Greek  fire  was  kindled.  The  cold  frosts 
came  out  of  the  North.  Captains  January  and 
February  had  already  gone  into  commission  under 
the  Greek  cross. 

The  gluttonous  Caliph  Soliman  died  of  eating 
eggs  and  figs  in  his  camp  at  Colchis  as  he  was  plan- 
ning to  bring  re-enforcements  from  the  East.  He 
was  succeeded  by  an  enemy  of  Moslemah.  The 
Thracian  peasants  lurked  with  sleepless  vigilance 
behind  every  tree  and  rock.  The  Bulgarians  came 
down  from  the  Balkans  and  shattered  the  army  that 
covered  the  rear  of  the  camp.  A  report  was  spread- 
ing among  the  invaders  that  the  unknown,  formida- 
ble nations  of  the  Western  world  were  gathering 
their  armies  and  navies  for  the  deliverance  of  Con- 
stantinople. All  this  was  too  much  for  Moslem  for- 
titude, and  after  thirteen  weeks  of  siege  the  signal 
was  given  to  retire.  It  had  been  a  costly  raid.  Only 
thirty    thousand    returned    of   the   hundred    thou- 


i6  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

sand  who  had  marched  to  the  siege.  Only  five  ves- 
sels reached  unharmed  the  Syrian  harbors  of  the 
eighteen  hundred  that  sailed  up  the  Hellespont. 

While  this  was  passing,  other  events  were  stir- 
ring the  West.  The  Saracens  had  swept  through 
Northern  Africa  as  fire  sweeps  through  the  prairie, 
had  leaped  Gibraltar,  and  had  crossed  the  Pyrenees 
into  France.  At  Tours  they  were  met  by  Charles 
Martel,  and  signally  defeated.  Professor  Creasy 
includes  this  battle  among  the  fifteen  that  have 
changed  the  face  of  the  world.  Gibbon  affirms  that, 
by  this  defeat,  the  Koran  was  kept  out  of  Oxford 
and  the  revelation  of  Mahomet  kept  out  of  the  Eng- 
lish pulpit.  Schlegel  declares  that  the  arms  of 
Charles  the  Hammer  saved  the  Christian  nations  of 
the  West  from  the  deadly  grasp  of  the  all-destroying 
Islam.  And  yet,  relatively  speaking,  it  was  only  a 
plundering  horde  from  an  outlying  province  that 
ravaged  Spain  and  threatened  the  shores  of  the 
North  Sea.  In  numbers  and  in  arms  the  Moslems 
v/ere  inferior  to  the  Franks,  according  to  the  decla- 
ration of  Charles  himself;  and  surely  his  own  gen- 
eration did  not  so  highly  esteem  the  deed.  A  synod 
declared  that  when  his  tomb  was  opened  it  was 
found  tenanted  by  a  fierce  demon,  and  a  holy  saint 
was  vouchsafed  a  vision  of  the  soul  of  Charles 


Th^  Timers.  _  17 

burning  in  the  pains  of  hell.  All  this,  forsooth,  be- 
cause he  felt  constrained  to  apply  the  revenues  of 
the  bishops  to  the  protection  of  the  State  against 
the  invaders. 

Here  at  Constantinople,  rather  than  at  Tours, 
was  Christendom  delivered  from  the  Prophet.  This 
is  a  better  reading  of  history.  Here  the  Crescent 
was  broken.  Here  fought  the  main  army  of  the 
Moslems,  led  by  a  brother  of  the  caliph,  and  com- 
missioned to  overthrow  the  Cross  and  to  uproot  the 
civilization  of  Europe.  And  the  great  city  of 
Constantine  beat  back  the  tide  of  invasion,  and 
stood  for  seven  centuries  a  gigantic  breakwater  in 
the  sweep  of  the  raging  sea ;  and  behind  it,  and  shel- 
tered by  it,  Europe  builded  her  cities,  and  enacted 
laws,  and  worked  out  her  destiny. 

But  in  still  another  way  did  the  imperial  city 
mold  the  fate  of  the  West.  Not  only  did  it  turn 
away  those  who  would  destroy,  but  it  sent  into 
Europe  the  forces  that  make  for  evolution.  Like 
the  government  agents  at  Ellis  Island,  it  turned 
back  to  their  old  haunts  those  who  were  dangerous 
and  undesirable,  while  the  sturdy,  the  orderly,  and 
the  sterling  were  bidden  Godspeed.  The  Barba- 
rians, who  became  the  bone  and  sinew  of  the  future, 
probably  would  never  have  entered  Germany  and 


i8  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

France  and  England  if  they  could  have  occupied 
Constantinople.  From  the  dim  and  mysterious 
Ukraine  they  had  come.  Again  and  again  did  they 
strike  at  the  empire.  Back  and  forth  across  the 
Danube  did  they  pass  as  they  came  to  attack  or  were 
beaten  in  battle.  Dacia  had  allured  them,  but  it 
did  not  satisfy.  Moesia  was  carelessly  guarded, 
rich  in  cattle  and  grain  and  fruits,  sheltered  by  the 
Carpathians  north  and  the  Balkans  south.  Here 
was  the  land  of  promise.  Here  the  battle-ground  of 
generations.  Here  Decius  and  his  son  died  on  the 
same  battle-field.  Here  Gallus  pledged  an  annual 
tribute  of  gold  if  the  dread  strangers  would  never 
again  enter  Roman  territory.  Here  Valerian  and 
Gallienus  held  the  shaggy  Northern  warriors  in 
check  until  by  and  by  they  learned  the  art  of  naviga- 
tion. Then  pushing  to  sea,  they  sailed  around  the 
shores  of  the  Euxine  and  ravaged  the  cities  of  Asia 
Minor ;  then  out  past  the  spot  where  Constantinople 
is  to  stand,  to  burn  Diana's  temple  at  Ephesus, 
plunder  Athens,  and  to  send  such  a  spasm  of  dread 
through  Italy  that  a  wild  chief  of  one  of  the  tribes 
is  actually  offered  the  Roman  consulship. 

Gradually  the  Goths  laid  aside  their  wolf-skins 
and  donned  the  garb  and  assumed  the  habits  of  civ- 
ilization; gradually  the  nomadic  and  hunter  stage 


The  Times.  19 

gave  place  to  the  agricultural.  Constantine  had 
signally  defeated  them;  he  had  taken  the  sons  of 
their  kings  as  hostages.  They  had  begun  to  settle 
upon  their  farms  along  the  border.  IMany  had  en- 
listed in  the  Roman  army.  Many  had  espoused 
Christianity,  and  had  naturalized  as  citizens  of  the 
empire. 

But  in  A.  D.  372  a  new  factor  appeared.  Be- 
yond the  Don  and  the  Volga  new  faces  were  to  be 
seen.  A  new,  disquieting,  tempestuous  ferment  has 
been  poured  into  the  stream  of  history.  The  Huns 
are  preparing  to  take  the  front  of  the  stage  in  the 
great  world-drama.  From  the  far  Caspian,  from 
the  inhospitable  wall  of  China,  from  the  depths  of 
the  Himalayas,  the  thousands  come,  ferocious  in 
character,  horrible  in  appearance,  lightning-like  in 
the  swiftness  of  their  movements ;  the  offspring,  it 
is  rumored,  of  the  witches  of  Scythia  and  the 
demons  of  the  desert.  It  is  an  irruption  of 
heathenism,  a  paroxysm  of  the  old  pagan  faith  to 
recover  the  lost  empire  of  the  world.  The  Alani 
are  defeated  and  added  to  their  ranks;  the  Ostro- 
goths or  Eastern  Goths,  are  crushed,  and  west- 
ward sweeps  the  muddy  flood;  the  Visigoths  are 
struck  and  borne  backward  to  the  Danube,  and, 
according  to  an  old  writer,  they  stand  on  the  banks 


20  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

of  the  river,  two  hundred  thousand  fighting  men, 
besides  women  and  children,  stretching  out  their 
hands  with  loud  lamentations,  earnestly  sup- 
plicating leave  to  cross,  and  promising  that  they 
will  ever  faithfully  adhere  to  the  imperial  alliance 
if  only  the  boon  be  granted. 

Valens  at  the  time  was  emperor.  Stupid,  cow- 
ardly, slothful,  avaricious,  he  yielded  to  the  prayer 
of  the  fugitives  lest  a  worse  evil  befall  should  he 
refuse.  Indeed,  the  warri(srs  were  permitted  to  re- 
tain their  weapons,  and  went  into  camp  on  the 
Roman  side  of  the  river, — a  dread  menace,  a  dan- 
gerous explosive,  a  wooden  horse  within  the  walls 
of  Troy,  capable  of  unspeakable  disaster. 

Even  now  the  danger  might  have  been  averted. 
But  Roman  greed  completed  the  work  begun  by 
Roman  folly.  The  corn  ordered  from  Asia  was 
doled  out  by  the  governor  at  exorbitant  prices.  The 
flesh  of  dogs  and  of  diseased  cattle  was  forced  upon 
the  strangers,  until,  starving  and  desperate,  they 
waited  only  the  opportunity  for  revenge. 

A  chance  encounter,  a  sword  hastily  drawn,  a 
rash  order,  and  the  whole  land  was  ablaze  with  ex- 
citement and  confusion.  A  battle  or  two  followed, 
indecisive,  exhausting;  then  came  Adrianople,  with 
the  death  of  Valens  and  the  destruction  of  one-third 


Thb  Timers.  21 

of  his  army,  and  the  great  tide  of  Barbarian  inva- 
sion rolled  to  the  very  gates  of  Constantinople. 

But  Constantinople  justified  the  expectations  of 
its  founder.  Had  the  city  yielded,  the  Goth  would 
probably  have  settled  on  the  Balkan  peninsula,  held 
it  against  all  comers,  and  builded  there  his  civili- 
zation. As  it  was,  unable  to  enter  the  city  or  make 
a  permanent  settlement,  after  a  few  years  of  unrest 
and  bickering,  they  turned  their  backs  upon  the 
East,  and  through  Macedonia  and  Illyricum,  and 
around  the  head  of  the  Adriatic,  they  swept  under 
Alaric  to  the  conquest  of  Rome.  Thus  came  the 
strong  men  out  of  the  East,  following  the  star  of 
empire  which  westward  took  its  way.  Thus,  from 
the  sowing  of  dragons'  teeth,  came  forth  the  warlike 
nations  that  were  to  make  the  map  of  the  world. 

The  other  Teuton  tribes,  the  Franks,  the  Sax- 
ons, and  Angles  and  Jutes,  tribes  that  decreed  war 
by  the  vote  of  assemblies  and  elected  their  chiefs  by 
ballot,  moved  westward  impelled  by  the  same  in- 
fluence that  drove  the  Goths  toward  the  setting  sun, 
and  modern  France  and  Germany  and  England  are 
the  result. 

Such,  then,  was  Constantinople,  the  guardian  of 
the  Eastern  gates  of  the  world,  to  keep  back  the 
destroyer.     When  those  came,  however,  who  could 


22  Chrysostom:  The;  Orator. 

build  and  broaden,  it  passed  them  on  into  larger 
fields,  and  there  the  full  centuries  found  them  mak- 
ing ready  for  the  marvelous  present. 

And  such  were  the  times  of  John  of  the  Golden 
Mouth.  The  seat  of  empire  had  been  removed  from 
the  Seven  Hills  of  the  Tiber  and  established  on  the 
Seven  Hills  of  the  Bosporus.  But  Constantine,  the 
Atlas  who  carried  the  world  on  his  shoulders,  is 
dead.  Constantine  H,  Constans,  and  Constantius, 
his  successors,  possessed  nothing  of  their  great 
father  except  the  ingenious  play  upon  his  name. 

Julian  the  Philosopher,  called  Julian  the  Apos- 
tate by  bitter  religionists,  is  coming,  is  only  a  few 
years  away.  The  empire  will  soon  be  split  asun- 
der, the  western  half  to  fall  before  another  century 
has  passed,  the  eastern  half  to  stand  a  thousand 
years. 

Sapor  H  is  on  the  Persian  throne.  He  has  de- 
feated the  Roman  arms  in  nine  bloody  encounters. 
With  tireless  resolution  and  with  almost  inexhausti- 
ble resources,  the  great  king  is  seeking  to  beat  his 
way  through  the  line  of  fortresses  along  the  Mace- 
donian frontiers. 

Whole  nations  are  breaking  their  cables  and 
flinging  themselves  against  each  other.  There  is 
the  grind  and  crush  of  empires.     The  powers  of 


The;  Times.  23 

chaos  seem  to  be  let  loose  among  men.  From  the 
North  and  the  East  the  Barbarian  hordes  are  com- 
ing. It  looks  like  the  overthrow  of  order,  the 
overwhelm  of  civilization.  There  is  nothing  sure 
or  stable.  "Chaos  has  come  again,  chaos  and  old 
night." 

Rome,  the  imperial  city,  her  feet  in  the  Tiber, 
her  hands  touching  the  edges  of  the  world,  her  head 
crowned  with  ten  centuries  of  conquest,  Rome  has 
lost  her  prestige,  and  the  bishops  of  the  new  re- 
ligion, which  the  prescient  Constantine  discovered 
to  be  better  than  the  superannuated  Paganism,  even 
the  hierarchs  of  this  lusty  faith  are  quarreling 
among  themselves  over  names  and  isms  and  pre- 
cedency. 

It  is  a  period  of  transition  in  the  religious  as  well 
as  in  the  political  world.  It  is  the  hour  of  the  awak- 
ening of  Paganism,  and  its  last  struggle  for  su- 
premacy. 

"Careless  seems  the  great  Avenger;  history's  pages  but 
record 
One  death-grapple  in  the  darkness  'twixt  old  systems  and 
the  Word." 

Through  ten  persecutions  does  the  young  Church 
walk  like  the  three  Hebrew  youths  through  the  fur- 
nace of  fire.     Long  years  of  systematic  brutality. 


24  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

of  legalized  murder,  are  these.  But  the  infant 
Hercules  is  steadily  strangling,  in  his  cradle,  the 
twa  serpents  of  priestly  hate  and  royal  persecution, 
even  though  their  fangs  are  buried  in  his  breast. 

It  is  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
The  old  regime  is  dying  at  the  core ;  the  very  heart 
of  this  splendid  old  civilization  is  rotten.  The  stars 
that  have  blazed  through  the  night,  the  military 
meteors  that  have  flashed  across  the  skies  of  history, 
are  paling,  fading  before  the  new  light  that  is 
flooding  the  Orient. 

The  surrender  of  the  old,  the  dominancy  of  the 
new,  did  not  come  without  a  struggle.  The  religion 
of  the  empire  was  a  national  religion.  In  its  final 
analysis  it  meant  the  worship  of  Rome  and  the  em- 
peror. Incense  was  burned  to  these,  and  sacrifices 
offered  in  their  name.  To  all  loyal  citizens  the  em- 
peror was  *'Dominus  ct  Deus  noster."  Tolerance 
for  an  alien  faith  was  not  therefore  spontaneous  and 
unlimited.  An  alien  faith  savored  of  treason;  it 
had  in  it  the  seeds  of  anarchy.  Moreover,  there 
was  restriction  on  moral  grounds.  The  city  fathers 
looked  well  to  social  order.  Whatever  threatened 
to  upset  the  balance  of  ethics  was  ostracized  and 
outlawed.  The  Societies  of  Bacchus  were  sup- 
pressed by  the  Senate  in  i86  B.  C,  because  of  their 


The;  Tim^s.  25 

indecency  and  immorality.  The  worship  of  Isis 
was  introduced  into  the  city  in  the  days  of  Sulla, 
and,  although  it  became  very  popular,  the  Senate 
soon  ordered  all  the  temples  of  this  faith  to  be  de- 
stroyed. The  sentence  against  Christianity  was  in 
two  counts :  the  Christians  were  regarded  as  athe- 
ists, and  they  were  charged  with  unnatural  crimes. 
The  Lord's  Supper  was  called  a  ''Thyestean  Feast," 
and  the  Christians  were  believed  to  be  guilty  of 
''CEdipodean  marriages."  To  the  student  of  Greek 
classics  these  allusions  are  easily  interpreted. 

The  bloody  waves  of  persecution  swept  from  the 
Caspian  to  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  and  when  the 
civil  authorities  ceased  to  harry  and  destroy,  the 
Christians  turned  in  hatred  against  each  other. 
Heretics  were  driven  into  the  desert.  Creeds  were 
written  in  blood.  The  Church  was  torn  asunder  by 
the  change  of  a  single  letter  in  the  Confession  of 
Faith.  The  homoousian  refused  to  fellowship  the 
homoiousian,  and  was  ready  to  crucify  the  hetero- 
cusian.  Athanasius  was  tossed  like  a  shuttle  from 
Alexandria  to  Troas,  and  from  Rome  to  Jerusalem, 
and  from  Antioch  to  the  hermit  caves  of  the  Upper 
Nile.  Julian  came  to  the  throne  in  360  A.  D.  He 
planned  the  destruction  of  the  Christian  religion. 
He  therefore  recalled  the  bishops  who  had  been 


26  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

exiled,  assured  that  they  would  exterminate  each 
other  if  kept  close  enough  together. 

These  were  the  times  when,  in  Constantinople, 
was  raised  a  voice  that  should  thrill  the  whole 
Church  and  shake  the  throne  of  the  Caesars.  It  was 
a  time  that  tried  men's  souls.  There  was  needed  a 
hand  and  a  personality  that  should  compel  attention 
and  shape  the  policy  of  empire.  The  setting  is 
magnificent;  will  the  jewel  be  found  of  the  first 
water?  The  twelve  labors  of  Hercules  are  ap- 
pointed ;  will  the  man  prove  himself  a  giant  ?  The 
Coliseum  is  cleared,  and  the  wild  beasts  are  pacing 
its  sanded  floors ;  will  this  unsophisticated  preacher 
from  Antioch,  this  bookish  pupil  of  the  rhetorician 
Libanius,  this  wearer  of  sackcloth  in  the  midst  of 
the  purple  and  splendors  of  the  imperial  court,  be 
a  victor  or  a  victim  ? 


BOOK  II 

THE  MAN 


PREPARATION. 

John  of  the  Golden  Mouth  was  born  in  Antioch, 
the  Antioch  of  Daphne  and  the  Orontes.  Fifteen 
other  cities  founded  by  Seleucus  Nicator  were 
named  after  his  father  Antiochus.  The  birthplace 
of  the  great  orator  was,  however,  called  by  Pliny 
the  "Queen  of  the  East,"  and  in  many  respects  was 
worthy  of  her  illustrious  son. 

It  was  a  glorious  city  through  whose  streets  the 
feet  of  the  youthful  Chrysostom  wandered.  Lo- 
cated by  Seleucus  after  watching  from  Mt.  Silpius 
the  flight  of  an  eagle,  all  who  settled  within  its  walls 
were  endowed  with  the  rights  of  citizenship.  Each 
successive  monarch  added  to  the  extent  and  glory 
of  the  favored  spot.  Antiochus  Epiphanes  laid  out 
a  magnificent  street  straight  through  from  wall  to 
wall,  the  center  of  the  street  open  to  the  sky,  the 
sidewalks  covered  from  the  sun  and  the  rain.  Pom- 
pey  gave  the  city  independence.  Cassar  erected  a 
handsome  basilica  and  called  it  the  Caesareum. 
Herod  the  Great  constructed  a  new  street,  with 
c:olumns,  such  as  stand  even  now  in  broken  splendor 

29 


30  Chrysostom  :  Th^  Orator. 

at  Samaria.  Constantine  builded  a  church  splendid 
with  gold  and  precious  stones.  Favored  of  her  mas- 
ters, this  Eastern  city  soon  ranked  next  after  Rome 
and  Alexandria,  the  third  city  of  the  empire. 

Only  a  short  distance  away,  through  the  Hera- 
clea  Suburbum,  past  medicinal  springs  and  spark- 
ling fountains  and  magnificent  villas,  was  the  Grove 
of  Daphne.  Here  the  maiden  Daphne  was  trans- 
formed into  a  laurel-tree,  according  to  a  revised  and 
localized  mythology,  and  to  the  confusion  of  the  ar- 
dent Apollo,  and  here  the  ancient  rites  of  Greece 
were  practiced  in  all  their  luxury  and  licentiousness. 
Classic  poets  extolled  the  charm  of  this  enticing 
spot,  and  the  senses  of  pilgrims  were  intoxicated 
with  fascinating  odors  and  languorous  sounds. 

Only  forty  miles  east  may  still  be  found  the 
ruins  of  the  church,  between  whose  chancel  and 
nave  stands  the  base  of  the  column  on  whose  top 
St.    Simon    Stylites  perched  for  thirty-seven  years, 

"  In  hungers  and  thirsts,  fevers  and  cold, 
In  coughs,  aches,  stitches,  ulcerous  throes,  and  cramps." 

With  Daphne  on  the  one  side  and  the  Stylites 
on  the  other,  the  merry  Antiocheans  were  not  with- 
out object  lessons  of  excesses  alike  of  the  flesh  and 
of  the  spirit.    The  one  blighted  the  body  by  self-in- 


Thk  Man.  31 

dulgence,  the  other  by  self-denial.  Eventually 
Daphne's  cypress  shades  were  deserted,  while  the 
mercurial  people,  captured  by  the  anchorite's  self- 
torture,  brought  their  sick  for  healing  to  the  foot 
of  his  column,  and  by  and  by  bore  away  the  filthy 
body  that  had  atrophied  at  the  top  of  the  column, 
to  be  buried  in  a  temple  built  for  its  reception  in  the 
midst  of  the  city. 

The  intellectuality  of  the  Greek  was  tinged  with 
the  mysticism  and  crossed  with  the  frivolity  of  the 
Orient.  Hence  came  the  famous  skill  ^of  the  An- 
tiocheans  in  coining  nicknames.  Not  long  did  the 
followers  of  Jesus  preach  in  their  streets  before  they 
had  invented  the  name  by  which  these  followers 
would  be  known  through  the  ages.  The  Emperors 
Hadrian,  Marcus,  Severus,  and  Julian  were  lam- 
pooned by  the  same  nimble  wits;  and  even  in  the 
overthrow  of  the  city,  in  538,  Chosroes  was  more 
outraged  by  the  sarcasm  of  the  defenders  than  by 
their  defense,  and  it  was  the  tongaies  of  the  people 
rather  than  their  weapons  of  defense  which  doomed 
the  city  to  plunder. 

In  the  days  of  which  we  write,  one-half  the 
population  seems  to  have  espoused  the  Christian 
faith.  In  fact,  there  were  at  this  time  two  candi- 
dates   competing    for  the  attention   of    the  city; 


32  Chrysostom:  The;  Orator. 

namely,  Christian  assemblies  and  earthquakes,  the 
former  a  little  in  the  lead.  Of  these  there  were 
ten  from  A.  D.  250  to  A.  D.  380 ;  while  of  the  lat- 
ter there  were  eight,  from  the  first  recorded  in  148 
B.  C,  to  the  awful  disaster  which  came  in  A.  D. 
526,  during  one  of  the  assemblies,  and  by  which 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  persons  lost  their 
lives. 

In  this  city  lived  Secundus,  an  officer  of  the  im- 
perial army  of  Syria,  and  his  wife  Anthusa.  The 
times  were  strenuous.  The  army  might  be  called 
into  the  field  at  any  time  to  meet  the  Persian  king, 
and  to  resist  the  irregular  incursions  that  occa- 
sionally swept  to  the  very  gates  of  the  city.  The 
position  of  Magister  militum,  held  by  Secundus, 
was  not  a  sinecure,  and  suggested  large  responsi- 
bility and  ability.  Not  much  is  known  personally  of 
the  father,  as  he  died  while  John  was  yet  an  infant. 
It  is  the  mother  whose  name  is  written  in  letters  of 
gold  upon  the  life  of  the  boy.  Born  before  his 
mother  was  twenty  years  old,  the  father  dying  soon 
after,  John  was  companion  at  once  and  son.  An- 
thusa lived  for  her  boy.  There  was  one  sister  older 
than  he,  but  it  is  supposed  that  she  died  early  in 
life. 

All  offers  of  marriage  were  refused  by  the  wid- 


The  Man.  33 

owed  mother,  either  because  of  the  current  preju- 
dice against  a  second  marriage,  or  in  order  that 
she  might  give  herself  wholly  to  her  boy.  The 
Church  fathers,  as  is  well  known,  opposed  remar- 
riage. Widowhood  was  second  in  sanctity  to  virgin- 
ity only.  Somehow  Chrysostom  himself  did  not 
seem  to  entertain  the  reverence  felt  by  the  fathers 
for  this  class  of  females.  In  his  treatise  concerning 
the  priesthood,  he  makes  the  following  adroit  state- 
ment :  "Widows  are  a  class  who,  both  on  account  of 
their  poverty,  their  age,  and  their  natural  disposition, 
indulge  in  unlimited  freedom  of  speech  (so  I  had 
best  call  it)."  This  is  shrewdly  said.  It  is  the  voice  of 
the  diplomat.  He  is  not  always  so  suave  and  so  dis- 
creet. He  assured  Basil  that  "with  widows  it  has 
become  a  common  practice  to  trifle  and  to  rail  at 
one  another,  to  flatter  or  to  be  impudent,  to  appear 
everywhere  in  public,  and  to  perambulate  the  mar- 
ket-places." Perhaps  he  was  more  discriminative 
than  the  fathers  in  general.  Perhaps  he  had  larger 
veneration  for  the  institution  than  for  individuals. 
Perhaps  it  was  widowhood  in  the  abstract  that  was 
to  be  commended.  This  appears  to  be  the  case.  He 
writes  a  letter  to  a  young  widow  in  which  he  de- 
clares that  "widowhood  is  a  state  which  is  admired 
and  deemed  worthy  of  honor  among  men,  not  only 
3 


34  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

amongst  us  who  believe,  but  even  amongst  unbe- 
lievers also."  He  has  his  mother  in  mind  now.  And 
so  he  gives  here  the  celebrated  expression  of  his  in- 
structor, who  learns  that  his  mother  has  been  a 
widow  twenty  years,  and  who  exclaims :  "Bless  me ! 
What  remarkable  women  there  are  among  the 
Christians  !"^ 

Anthusa  ranks  with  Monica  and  Nonna  and 
Macrina  as  among  the  women  who  have  nurtured 
giants.  She  appreciated  her  gifted  son,  and  planned 
that  he  should  have  the  best  teachers  of  the  day. 
At  Antioch  was  living  at  this  time  the  celebrated 
Sophist  Libanius.  This  city  was  his  birthplace.  He 
had  studied  at  Athens,  and  his  earliest  manhood  had 
been  spent  in  Constantinople  and  Nicomedia.  As  a 
rhetorician  and  classic  Greek  scholar  he  had  no 
rival.  Indeed,  his  popularity  at  Constantinople  as  a 
private  teacher  of  rhetoric  had  prompted  the  pub- 
lic professors  to  plan  his  downfall,  and  he  had  been 
expelled  on  the  charge  of  practicing  magic.  The 
same  success  as  a  teacher  and  the  same  jealousy  and 
persecution  followed  him  to  Nicomedia.    Eventually 

1  The  expletive  Ba/3a£  is  variously  rendered  by  translators. 
Stephens  renders  it  "  Heavens ;"  McClintock  and  Strong 
translate  it  "Ah,  gods  of  Greece;"  Dr.  SchafF  gives  it 
"  Bless  me !"  This,  although  a  little  inane,  is  more  in  ac- 
cord with  the  literary  usage  of  Plato  and  Euripides,  where 
the  term  occurs,  and  is  preferred  by  the  best  Greek 
scholars. 


y 


The  Man.  35 

he  settled  in  Antioch.  He  was  vain  and  querulous, 
a  pagan  and  a  great  admirer  of  Julian ;  but  Anthusa 
had  insight  enough  to  recognize  his  capacity,  and 
faith  enough  in  her  home  training  and  in  the  stam- 
ina of  her  boy,  to  risk  the  latter  in  the  school  of 
the  great  rhetorician. 

Here  was  laid  the  foundation  for  a  splendid 
career.  Libanius  was  a  faithful  student  of  Demos- 
thenes, a  close  analyst  of  the  speeches  of  the  famous 
orators,  an  ardent  lover  of  the  old  Attic  style, 
indeed  in  his  own  productions  he  seems  at  times 
more  concerned  with  the  form  than  with  the  sub- 
stance. There  are  not  wanting  traces  of  this  same 
mistaken  emphasis  in  the  matured  style  of  Chrys- 
ostom.  Our  young  orator  being  himself  of  irrita- 
ble temper  and  inclined  to  the  brutally  frank  in 
speech,  the  wonder  is  that  the  "declamations  on 
fictitious  subjects,"  and  the  "models  for  rhetorical 
exercises,"  according  to  the  published  circulars  of 
the  teacher,  did  not  give  place  to  diatribes  more  di- 
rect and  expletives  more  personal  in  the  intercourse 
between  the  mercurial  pupil  and  his  moody  peda- 
gogue. Yet  their  relation  was  always  tender  and 
affectionate,  and  whenever  his  teacher-friend  was 
referred  to  directly  or  indirectly  by  Chrysostom,  it 
was  with  the  greatest  respect  and  veneration. 


36  Chrysostom:  The;  Orator. 

Libanius  was  a  consistent  pagan.  He  never  sur- 
rendered. He  refused  even  to  compromise.  Yet  he 
was  tolerant  of  the  Christian  faith  during  the  period 
of  its  ecHpse  under  JuHan.  As  a  consequence,  on 
the  return  of  Christianity  to  power,  the  rhetorician 
enjoyed  the  favor  of  the  Christian  emperor.  There 
was  perhaps  more  humor  than  bitterness  intended 
in  his  famous  tribute  to  Chrysostom,  as  quoted  by 
Sozomen.  When  asked  whom  he  would  wish  as  his 
successor,  he  answered,  ''Jo^^^^  i^  the  Christians 
had  not  stolen  him."  But  John  had  larger  ideas 
than  rhetoric  even  before  he  caught  visions  of  the 
monkish  sackcloth  or  the  archbishop's  miter.  His 
elocutionary  training  had  larger  aims  than  mere 
phrase-making  and  facial  g}^mnastics.  His  nature 
was  cast  in  too  generous  a  mold  to  be  satisfied  with 
the  rehearsal  of  other  men's  thoughts  or  the  simu- 
lation of  other  men's  passions.  He  could  never  have 
been  satisfied  with  Buckingham : 

"  To  counterfeit  the  deep  tragedian  ; 
Speak  and  look  back,  and  pry  on  every  side; 
Tremble  and  start  at  wagging  of  a  straw, 
Intending  deep  suspicion." 

His  purpose  was  the  practice  of  law.  Here  was 
the  open  door  to  the  heights.  All  civil  magistrates 
were  selected  from  this  profession.  Justinian  prom- 


The  Man.  37 

ised  to  students  of  Roman  law  an  important  share 
in  the  government  of  the  repubHc.  Down  at  Bery- 
tus  on  the  Alediterranean  was  one  of  the  most  fa- 
mous law  schools  of  the  age,  and  after  five  years' 
course  the  graduates  were  marked  for  distinction, 
or  were  capable  of  acquiring  princely  wealth.  The 
empire  was  bewildered  by  the  multiplicity  of  laws. 
Law-books,  we  are  told,  were  published  by  the  cart- 
load. Justinian,  and  his  eloquent  but  infamous  min- 
ister, Tribonian,  had  not  at  this  time  reformed  and 
condensed  the  laws  that  for  ten  centuries  had  del- 
uged the  empire.  In  this  revision  it  was  found 
that  the  contents  of  two  thousand  treatises  could  be 
published  in  fifty  books,  and  that  three  million  legal 
principles  could  be  reduced  to  a  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand.  In  the  midst  of  this  confusion  and  disor- 
der, this  tangled  labyrinth  of  legal  cobwebs,  where, 
according  to  Bacon,  the  small  flies  are  caught  and 
the  great  break  through,  the  need  for  the  services 
of  the  lawyer  was  imperative  and  habitual,  and  the 
influence  and  standing  of  the  lawyer  were  neces- 
sarily commanding.  The  court  of  the  pretorian  pre- 
fect of  the  East  required  the  services  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  advocates,  many  of  them  distinguished  by 
special  honors.  Instances  were  frequent  of  a  rise 
from  the  humblest  position  to  the  most  illustrious 


38  Chrysostom:  Th^  Orator. 

dignities  of  the  State  by  gifts  of  eloquence  and  skill 
in  litigation. 

Into  this  arena  came  John,  the  trained  rhetori- 
cian, the  polished  orator,  with  an  imagination  as 
rich  as  the  myrtle-grown  valley  of  the  Orontes,  and 
with  a  mind  within  whose  splendid  realm  dwelt  the 
fauns  and  dryads  of  Castalia  and  Pentelicus  side  by 
side  with  the  cherubim  and  seraphim  of  the  Eu- 
phrates and  Mt.  Zion.  And  very  soon  he  was  a 
marked  man.  He  was  conscientious ;  he  was  clean ; 
he  was  impartial.  There  was  room  for  such  a  man 
in  such  a  place.  The  profession  of  law  was  being 
prostituted  by  those  who  practiced  law.  ''Careless 
of  fame  and  justice,  they  are  described,  for  the  most 
part,  as  ignorant  and  rapacious  guides,  who  con- 
ducted their  clients  through  a  maze  of  expense,  of 
delay,  and  disappointment."  Many  of  them,  "re- 
cluse in  their  chambers,  maintained  the  dignity  of 
the  legal  profession  by  furnishing  a  rich  client  with 
subtilties  to  confound  the  plainest  truths,  and  with 
arguments  to  cover  the  most  unjustifiable  preten- 
sions." 

John  gave  his  soul  to  the  profession  he  had 
chosen.  He  was  constant  in  his  attendance  upon 
the  courts.  His  fresh,  vigorous  fancy  and  trans- 
parent style  was  a  revelation  to  the  blase  lawyers 
in  the  market-place  and  the  cloyed  libertines  of  the 


Th^  Man.  39 

Heraclea.  But  it  did  not  last.  It  could  not  last. 
The  laws  of  the  empire  required  every  witness  in  a 
case  to  take  oath.  Our  young  lawyer  had  been 
taught  the  Bible  by  the  best  of  teachers,  his  mother 
Anthusa.  He  regarded  the  word  of  Christ  as  final. 
He  could  not  tolerate  an  oath.  We  hear  him  saying 
a  little  later:  "Is  it  possible  not  to  swear  at  all? 
Hath  God  commanded,  and  darest  thou  ask  if  it  be 
possible  for  His  law  to  be  kept?"  'To  swear  in 
any  way  is  a  diabolical  thing,  and  the  whole  a  de- 
vice of  the  evil  one." 

The  oath  of  Constantine,  ''As  the  most  High 
Divinity  may  ever  be  propitious  to  me,"  patterned 
after  an  old  pagan  form,  rattled  off  by  the  flippant 
Antiochean,  with  his  hand  upon  the  Gospels ;  the 
oath  ''by  the  safety  of  the  emperor,"  a  concession 
to  the  Christians,  who  declined  to  swear  by  the 
genius  of  the  emperor,  taken  by  the  volatile 
Oriental,  or  the  truculent  Barbarian  who  would  stab 
the  emperor  at  sight, — all  this  revolted  the  young 
puritan,  and  he  soon  grew  restive.  The  pathway 
to  the  heights  political  was  too  warped  and  devious 
for  the  feet  that  were  in  training  for  the  steeps  of 
devotion;  the  statutes  of  Constantine  were  too  cold 
for  the  heart  that  was  ripe  for  the  precepts  of 
Christ. 


IMMOLATION. 

In  his  twenty-third  year,  certain  influences  that 
had  made  themselves  felt  in  the  life  of  John  from 
childhood  reached  their  meridian.  The  gentle  in- 
sistency of  his  mother,  the  beautiful  integrity  of 
Basil,  his  boyhood  friend,  and  the  example  of  Mele- 
tius,  the  bishop  of  Antioch, — all  these,  like  the 
warm  spring  showers  in  the  olive-groves  of  Leb- 
anon, were  waking  into  life  and  bringing  to  ma- 
turity the  mysticism  and  ideality  that  slumbered  in 
the  soul  of  the  young  advocate.  Among  these  in- 
fluences, not  the  least  was  the  personality  of  the 
bishop.  Here  was  a  force  to  be  reckoned  with. 
Libanius  for  the  brain,  Meletius  for  the  heart. 
Libanius  taught  him  to  speak,  Meletius  filled  his 
soul  with  great,  throbbing  aspirations  and  ideals 
worthy  the  rhetorician's  art.  John  seems  to  have 
been  peculiarly  fortunate  in  his  early  friendships 
and  alliances.  His  sensitive  soul  ripened  under  the 
sunshine  of  high  thoughts*  and  noble  deeds.  Of 
the  full-orbed  bishop  he  says,  in  his  "Homily  on 
Saint  Babylos:"  "They  [the  martyrs]  gave  their 
40 


Th^  Man.  41 

bodies  to  the  slaughter ;  he  has  mortified  the  mem- 
bers of  his  flesh  here  upon  earth.  They  stopped  the 
flame  of  fire ;  he  quenched  the  flame  of  lust.  They 
fought  against  the  teeth  of  beasts;  but  this  man 
bore  off  the  most  dangerous  of  all  passions,  anger. 
For  all  these  things  let  us  give  thanks  to  God,  be- 
cause he  hath  granted  us  noble  martyrs,  and  pastors 
worthy  of  martyrs." 

Bishop  Meletius,  although  appointed  to  the  see 
of  Antioch  by  Arian  influence,  stood  loyally  by  his 
anti-Arian  principles.  Exiled  again  and  again  be- 
cause he  did  not  oppose  the  Nicene  Creed,  as  he  was 
expected  to  do,  he  eventually  adopted  the  creed,  and 
so  cut  off  all  hope  of  reconciliation  with  his  power- 
ful enemies.  At  the  same  time  he  was  not  indorsed 
by  the  Athanasians.  Though  opposed  to  Arius,  he 
did  not  favor  his  enemy,  Athanasius.  Though  re- 
fusing to  join  the  dominant  party,  he  would  not  ally 
himself  with  the  extreme  left.  And  so  he  lived  be- 
tween two  hostile  camps,  not  Arian  enough  for  one 
and  too  Arian  for  the  other ;  yet  so  correct  and  sin- 
cere that,  living,  his  name  was  engraved  in  the  sig- 
net-rings worn  by  the  people,  and  dying,  he  was  en- 
rolled among  the  saints  by  both  the  Greek  and  the 
Latin  Churches.  This  was  the  subtle  atmosphere 
which  the  young  advocate  was  breathing  at  the 


42 


Chrysostom:  The  Orator. 


most  critical  period  of  his  life.  The  music  of  a 
charming  personality  and  of  a  powerful  example 
was  exorcising  the  world-spirit  from  the  heart  of 
the  young  Saul  who  was  set  for  a  leader  of  the  peo- 
ple. So  at  twenty  he  takes  an  important  step.  Dis- 
couraged by  the  revelations  of  his  legal  experience, 
and  disgusted  by  the  Jesuitism  and  jugglery  of  his 
associates,  he  abandoned  the  law  and  entered  a  class 
of  catechumens,  and  after  three  years  of  instruction 
and  probation,  according  to  the  Apostolic  Constitu- 
tions, was  baptized  by  his  beloved  bishop,  and  gave 
himself  to  the  service  of  the  Church. 

By  and  by  he  was  appointed  reader.  It  was  not 
a  distinctly  honorable  position.  He  was  expected  to 
read  the  Scripture  lesson  of  the  day  from  the  in- 
closed stand,  but  he  was  not  permitted  to  take  any 
other  official  part  in  the  public  service.  The  prom- 
ising lawyer  had  humbled  himself.  He  had  laid 
down  the  robes  of  office  upon  the  altar  of  the 
Church.  The  gifted  author  of  the  famous  'Tane- 
gyric  on  the  Emperors,"  which  had  stirred  alike  the 
pagan  and  the  Christian  world,  the  brilliant  young 
orator  whose  rising  to  speak  filled  the  court-room 
with  eager  and  expectant  hearers,  had  consented  to 
be  a  mere  retainer  for  the  privileged  speaker  of  the 
day,  and  to  listen  in  respectful  silence. 


The:  Man.  43 

But  even  this  degree  of  self-abasement  was  not 
enough.  Other  and  more  strenuous  humihations 
were  soon  contemplated.  Monasticism  was  the  or- 
der of  the  day,  and  perhaps  deserves  a  word  or  two 
in  passing.  It  was  a  typical  Oriental  product. 
It  was  making  and  unmaking  creeds  and  king- 
doms. The  history  of  the  Eastern  empire  and  the 
Eastern  Church  can  not  be  written  if  we  ignore 
this  strange  cult.  It  caught  John  of  Antioch  in  its 
grip  of  steel. 

In  its  root  idea  the  principle  of  monasticism  is 
correct.  It  is  the  emphasis  of  personal  responsi- 
bility, the  concrete  form  of  an  intense  individualism. 
It  has  found  a  place  in  all  religions.  Eight  centuries 
before  Paul  the  Egyptian  forsook  his  inheritance 
and  his  Greek  classics  for  the  desert,  the  India 
prince,  Gautama,  had  fled  to  the  forest  in  order  to 
find  the  peace  of  the  Infinite.  Poverty,  asceticism, 
self-annihilation  were  the  articles  of  his  creed,  and 
thousands  of  his  followers  still  dwell  in  desert 
places  to  meditate  over  the  Dhamma-pada  or  to 
wait  for  Nirvana.  Judaism  had  its  Essenes  and 
its  Therapeutae,  who  sought  escape  from  the  world 
into  a  life  of  simplicity  and  virtue.  Mohammedan- 
ism has  its  howling  dervishes ;  Brahmanism  has  its 
anchorites. 


44  Chrysostom  :  The;  Orator. 

Moreover,  there  were  conditions  prevalent  dur- 
ing the  early  centuries  of  the  Christian  faith  which 
made  monasticism  a  haven  of  refuge.  In  the 
first  place  was  the  growing  ecclesiasticism.  Stead- 
ily, subtly,  irresistibly  was  the  Church  taking  the 
center  of  the  stage.  The  orders  of  the  priesthood, 
the  development  of  ritual,  the  assumed  authority  to 
withhold  the  sacraments  at  the  will  of  the  eccle- 
siastic,— all  these  were  creating  suspicion,  awaken- 
ing antagonism,  and  making  keen  the  longing  in 
many  ardent  souls  to  repudiate  the  form  and  to 
come  face  to  face  with  God  without  altar  or  priest. 

Added  to  this  was  the  prevailing  sensuality,  fla- 
grant in  pagan  quarters,  not  unknown  even  in  the 
Church.  The  Barbarians  were  pouring  into  the 
empire,  crude,  unsophisticated,  unaccustomed  to 
luxury,  and  ready  victims  to  popular  vice.  New 
converts  were  flocking  into  the  Church.  It  was  the 
surest  road  to  promotion.  It  was  an  easy  way  out 
of  a  dilemma.  It  allayed  suspicion.  It  was  com- 
passed by  the  simplest  methods;  the  Church  door 
stood  wide  open.  Constantine  saw,  or  imagined  he 
saw,  or  pretended  he  saw  the  flaming  cross  in  the 
sky,  and  the  empire  became  Christian.  Ethelbert 
and  ten  thousand  of  his  people  are  baptized  on 
Christmas-day,  and  Anglo-Saxon  Christianity  is  a»- 


Th^  Man.  45 

sured.  Said  the  Roman  Senator,  Prjetextus,  to 
Pope  Damasus,  "I  will  turn  Christian  if  you  will 
make  me  a  bishop."  The  very  service  of  the  sanctu- 
ary was  being  paganized.  Rites  and  ceremonies 
taken  boldly  and  bodily  from  the  heathen  ritual 
were  stamped  with  official  sanction  and  accepted 
with  popular  enthusiasm.  Bitter  was  the  need  of  a 
new  emphasis  upon  change  of  heart  and  purity  of 
life.  The  lesson  of  self-restraint  was  becoming  the 
supreme  necessity  of  the  age. 

A  mighty  reaction  was  at  hand ;  it  must  come  if 
the  integrity  of  the  Church  be  preserved  and  the 
faith  of  the  fathers  be  transmitted  pure  and  vital  to 
the  children.  This  reaction  came  in  the  form  of 
monasticism.  To  be  sure  it  was  an  exaggeration 
and  a  monomania.  Incipient  reforms  are  apt  to  be. 
St.  Antony  never  used  clean  water.  St.  Abraham 
for  fifteen  years  washed  neither  hands  nor  feet.  St. 
Simeon  wore  a  rope  about  his  naked  waist  so  tightly 
bound  that  it  sunk  into  the  flesh  and  cut  to  the  bone, 
until  indeed  it  was  out  of  sight.  St.  Bessarian  slept 
forty  nights  in  the  thorn-bushes  of  the  desert.  But 
in  spite  of  its  grotesqueness  and  fanaticism,  this 
new  institution  made  its  appeal.  Its  voice  could  not 
be  silenced.  It  was  a  tremendous  object  lesson  to 
the  multitudes  "clothed  in  silk  and  redolent  with 


46  Chrysostom:  Tut  Orator. 

perfume,  who  strode  through  the  market-place  with 
much  pomp  and  a  crowd  of  attendants."  It  was  a 
conspicuous  foil  to  the  "costly  splendor  of  the  ban- 
quets, the  throng  of  musicians,  the  attention  of  flat- 
terers, the  enervation  of  music,  the  voluptuous, 
abandoned,  extravagant  manner  of  life"  to  which 
Chrysostom  had  grown  accustomed,  and  which  later 
he  flayed  so  unmercifully  in  his  sermons. 

The  excesses  of  the  hermit  might  be  as  extreme 
as  the  excesses  of  the  voluptuary;  his  life  might  be 
as  sterile  and  unproductive.  He  might  spend  his 
days  in  the  indolence  of  morbid  introspection,  the 
hideous  glorification  of  filth.  The  diseased  body 
might  react  upon  the  perverted  mind.  But  Chrys- 
ostom did  not  see  this  any  more  clearly  than  did  the 
adoring  crowds.  He  saw  only  what  they  saw, — ^the 
glamour  of  consecration.  He  caught  glimpses  of 
rumored  miraculous  powers.  He  thought  of  escape 
from  sense,  and  of  long,  direct,  uninterrupted  com- 
munion with  God;  and  so  he  was  filled  with  desire 
to  desert  his  home  and  fly  to  the  desert  that  he 
might  "pursue  the  blessed  life  of  monks  and  the 
true  philosophy." 

This  finally  he  planned  to  do  in  company  with 
Basil,  his  long-time  friend  and  counselor.  But  there 
was  an  older  friend  and  a  wiser  counselor  who  was 


The  Man.  47 

to  be  reckoned  with.  His  mother  discovered  the 
purpose  of  her  boy.  The  interview  that  followed 
is  inexpressibly  tender.  Chrysostom  naively  de- 
scribes it  in  his  work  "On  the  Priesthood."  "She 
took  me  into  her  own  favorite  chamber,  and,  sitting 
near  me  on  the  bed  where  she  had  given  birth  to  me, 
she  shed  torrents  of  tears,  to  which  she  added  words 
yet  more  piteous  than  her  weeping."  She  reminded 
him  how  short  had  been  her  term  of  happiness  with 
her  husband,  his  father ;  how  worldly  care  and  busi- 
ness responsibility  came  to  add  to  her  lonely  sor- 
row. In  the  midst  of  it  all  she  had  endured  the 
fiery  furnace  of  her  widowhood,  content  to  look 
into  his  face  and  to  feel  his  little  arms  about  her 
neck.  Now  she  asked  but  one  return,  and  that  was 
that  he  would  not  plunge  her  into  the  sorrow  of  a 
second  widowhood  by  forsaking  her ;  that  he  would 
stay  near  her  until  death  should  come.  Then,  when 
her  body  had  been  laid  away,  he  would  be  free  to 
pursue  his  favorite  scheme.  Indeed  even  now,  and 
at  home,  she  would  give  him  the  largest  liberty,  and 
he  might  be  a  recluse  under  his  own  roof. 

What  a  tender  strain  of  music  is  this  coming  to 
us  out  of  the  dead  past !  It  shows  Anthusa  in  all 
the  strength  of  her  womanly  character  and  in  all 
the  tenderness  of  her  mother  love.    Of  course  her 


48  Chrysostom:  Thk  Orator. 

prayer  was  successful.  The  great-hearted  John  sur- 
rendered to  his  great-hearted  mother.  This  his- 
tory would  not  be  worth  writing  if  he  could  have 
done  otherwise.  Basil  seems  to  have  ignored  the 
plea  of  Anthusa,  as  he  used  all  his  persuasive  powers 
upon  John  to  bring  him  back  to  the  original  plan. 
This  is  hardly  what  we  would  expect  from  the  noble 
3'outh  who,  when  commended  for  an  act  of  great 
self-sacrifice,  said,  "I  do  not  kfiow  how  otherwise 
to  love  than  by  giving  up  my  life  when  it  is  neces- 
sary to  save  one  of  my  friends,"  and  whose  under- 
standing is  said  to  have  exceeded  even  his  loving 
kindness.  But  his  persuasions  were  futile;  the 
mother  had  settled  the  matter. 

And  so,  as  Mahomet  could  not  or  would  not  go 
to  the  mountain,  in  this  case  the  mountain  made  a 
concession  and  came  to  Mahomet.  The  young 
zealot  organized  a  monastery  of  his  own.  He  took 
Anthusa  at  her  word.  She  had  offered  absolute 
liberty  for  seclusion  and  contemplation  at  home. 
He  might  be  as  miserable  as  he  wished  in  his  own 
bedchamber.  Only  stay  where  she.  could  see  him 
occasionally,  and  she  would  eliminate  herself  en- 
tirely. This  was  actually  done,  and,  without  enter- 
ing a  monastery,  Chrysostom  became  virtually  a 
monk.    He  associated  with  himself  three  others  as 


Thk  Man.  49 

zealous  as  he :  Basil  his  friend,  Maximus,  and  Theo- 
dore. Like  Luther  and  Melanchthon  at  Witten- 
berg bending  over  the  new  translation  of  the  Bible ; 
like  the  Wesleys  and  their  two  fellow-students 
searching  the  New  Testament  at  Oxford, — these 
four  disciples  of  Diodorus  at  Antioch  were  prepar- 
ing for  marvelous  revelations  and  startling  revolu- 
tions. It  was  a  training-school  for  bishops.  Se- 
leucia,  the  future  see  of  Maximus ;  Mopsuestia,  for- 
ever associated  with  the  name  of  Theodore;  Con- 
stantinople, the  Eastern  world,  the  Christian 
Church, — are  waiting  upon  this  little  class-meeting. 

"  And  out  of  darkness  came  the  hands 
That  reach  through  nature,  molding  men." 

Jealous  for  the  Church,  they  were  also  jealous 
for  each  other.  One  of  these  embryonic  monks 
chanced  to  fall  in  love.  It  was  a  natural  thing  to 
do,  even  in  the  fourth  century,  and  it  increases  our 
respect  for  one  at  least  of  this  vigorous  quartet  of 
enthusiasts.  But  it  was  a  fatal  slip.  It  must  not 
be  allowed  to  stand.  It  might  establish  a  most  dan- 
gerous precedent.  It  might  inoculate  the  whole  es- 
tablishment. Heroic  treatment  must  at  once  be 
used.  So  special  prayers  were  made  for  the  re- 
pentance and  restoration  of  the  derelict;  and  to 
Chrysostom  was  assigned  the  task  of  his  recall. 
4 


50  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

This  was  compassed  by  means  of  two  letters  which 
are  extant,  and  which  are  called  Ad  Theodorum 
Lapsum,  or  ''To  Theodore  the  Fallen."  John  be- 
gins his  first  letter  with  the  pathetic  words:  *'0 
that  my  head  were  waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  foun- 
tain of  tears!"  He  declares  that  the  devil  has  set 
Theodore's  mind  afire;  that  the  temple  of  his  soul 
is  desolate;  that  a  ponderous  millstone  is  hanged 
about  his  neck ;  that  he  has  stepped  overboard  and 
fallen  into  the  pit  of  destruction.  And  all  this 
whirlwind  of  rhetoric,  and  jeremiad  of  lamentation, 
and  jumble  of  imagery,  because  the  unfortunate 
Theodore  honorably  loved  and  honorably  desired 
to  marry  a  beautiful  woman.  But  what  is  beauty? 
quoth  our  venerable  philosopher  of  twenty-eight 
summers.  ''Nothing  else  but  phlegm,  and  blood, 
and  humor,  and  bile,  and  the  fluid  of  masticated 
food."  The  volatile  French  essayist  who  recently 
said  that  woman  was  "a  vain  little  pinch  of  rose- 
colored  dust,"  had  perhaps  been  reading  Chrysos- 
tom. 

Aloreover,  see  what  a  dilemma  is  before  you, 
foolhardy  Theodore!  If  you  marry  a  poor  wife, 
it  will  be  injurious  to  your  means  and  your  pros- 
pects ;  if  you  marry  a  rich  wife,  it  will  affect  your 
domestic  authority  and    jeopard  your  personal  in- 


The:  Man.  51 

dependence.  It  will  be  a  grievous  thing  to  have 
children,  for  a  bitter  bondage  will  be  imposed  upon 
you ;  it  will  be  equally  grievous  to  be  childless,  for 
then  marriage  has  been  to  no  purpose.  It  was 
Scylla  and  Charybdis  with  a  vengeance,  with  the 
water  shallow  and  the  weather  foul.  Theodore  sur- 
rendered ;  he  broke  his  engagement  with  Hermionc 
and  returned  to  his  asceticism,  and  the  poor  girl  dis- 
appears from  history. 

But  the  desert  was  calling, — calling. 

At  this  time  occurred  an  incident  which  reveals 
to  some  extent  the  modesty  and  humility  of  the 
young  man,  and  illustrates  the  laxity  of  the  age  on 
some  questions  of  casuistry.  Meletius  was  ban- 
ished, and,  because  of  certain  political  conditions, 
it  was  thought  advisable  to  elect  a  thoroughly  ortho- 
dox bishop  in  his  place.  The  eyes  of  the  Church 
were  turned  toward  Chrysostom  and  Basil.  These 
splendid  young  men  seemed  eminently  fitted  for  this 
exalted  position,  and  their  election  was  publicly  dis- 
cussed. At  once  Chrysostom  was  thrown  into  an 
agony  of  fear.  He  was  well  aware  that  in  a  matter 
of  this  kind  his  personal  inclination  and  preference 
would  not  for  a  moment  be  consulted.  He  would 
be  literally  and  hopelessly  in  the  hands  of  his 
friends.     In  those  unsophisticated  days  the  office 


52  Chrysostom:  Th^  Orator. 

had  the  habit  of  seeking  the  man,  and  seeking  him 
without  any  noticeable  reference  to  his  wishes  in  the 
premises.  Alore  than  one  bewildered  priest  had 
been  elected  and  ordained  bishop  nolens  volens. 
The  ecclesiastical  sponsors  might  lay  hands  sud- 
denly on  no  man,  in  deference  to  apostolic  injimc- 
tion,  but  the  operation  was  sometimes  performed 
very  vigorously  and  peremptorily.  St.  Martin,  of 
Tours,  a  pagan  born,  was  dragged  from  his  cell  in 
Gaul  and  forcibly  ordained  bishop.  Augustine  pro- 
tested against  his  own  election  with  tears,  but  he 
was  ordained  none  the  less.  The  patriarch  of  Alex- 
andria is  even  now  brought  to  Cairo  in  chains  and 
ordained  under  guard,  as  if  he  would  strive  to  es- 
cape. How  this  Oriental  timidity  and  repugnance 
has  been  overcome  in  later  years,  and  how  the  in- 
trepidity and  chivalrous  devotion  of  the  modem 
divines,  as  they  calmly  dare  the  hazardous  office  of 
bishop,  might  shame  the  fearsome  patriarchs  of  the 
elder  day. 

On  consultation,  the  two  friends  agreed  to  act 
together,  either  in  accepting  or  refusing  the  office. 
Chrysostom,  however,  deliberately  deceived  Basil, 
concealed  himself  from  the  messengers  who  had 
been  sent  to  bring  him  to  the  Council,  and  allowed 
them  to  tell  Basil  that  he  had  yielded,  and  that  they 


The:  Man.  53 

would  be  consecrated  together.  Thus  Basil  was  en- 
trapped and  ordained  and  Chrysostom  escaped.  A 
cold-blooded  deception  was  practiced.  There  is  no 
question  about  that.  Indeed,  Chrysostom  laugh- 
ingly greets  his  distressed  and  indignant  friend,  and 
ingeniously  and  gleefully  justifies  the  fraud.  But 
let  us  not  be  too  hasty  in  our  judgment.  In  many 
aspects  the.  Christianity  of  the  day  was  but  little  im- 
provement upon  the  maxims  of  the  Greek  sophists. 
Plato  would  have  justified  the  deception  by  the  same 
arguments.  It  was  not  called  deception  but  "admin- 
istration" or  ''management"  (oiKovo/xia) ,  It  was  mak- 
ing the  ends  to  justify  the  means,  a  thousand  years 
before  Ignatius  Loyola  made  that  creed  the  slogan 
of  the  Jesuit  movement. 

The  fathers  introduced  this  Jesuitical  gloss  into 
the  most  sacred  subjects.  When  Paul  withstood 
Peter  face  to  face  at  Antioch  on  account  of  Peter's 
vacillation,  some  of  the  early  commentators  claim 
that  it  was  a  clever  piece  of  prearranged  acting  by 
which  the  uselessness  of  circumcision  was  to  be  em- 
phasized. They  even  held  that  Christ  deceived 
Satan  into  believing  that  he  was  a  mere  man,  in 
order  that  Satan  might  be  led  to  compass  his  cruci- 
fixion, and  so  set  in  operation  the  agencies  by  which 


54  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

the  world  was  to  be  redeemed.  So  writes  St.  Igna- 
tius: "Now  the  virginity  of  Mary  was  kept  in 
secret  from  the  Prince  of  this  world."  Origen  also 
declares,  "Our  Savior  purposed  that  the  devil  should 
be  ignorant  of  his  CEconomy  and  Incarnation.  So, 
when  tempted,  he  nowhere  owned  Himself  to  be 
the  Son  of  God." 

But  it  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  any 
good.  Out  of  this  singular  episode  grew  the  six 
books  "On  the  Priesthood."  We  are  almost  ready, 
as  we  read  this  work,  to  admit  that  in  this  case  the 
end  justified  the  means;  that  here,  at  any  rate,  the 
event  trammels  up  the  consequence.  We  forgive 
Chrysostom  his  deception  as  we  read  his  splendid 
apology  for  it.  The  extenuation  is  warrant  enough 
for  the  offense.  This  brilliant  work  "On  the  Priest- 
hood" is  Socratic  in  its  form,  consisting  of  ques- 
tions and  answers.  The  first  part  is  a  vindication  of 
his  deception,  and  gives  no  hint  of  the  breadth  and 
splendor  of  the  treatise  in  general.  As  a  dis- 
cussion of  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  the 
priestly  office,  it  is  unique.  It  is  classic.  The  won- 
der is  that  it  has  never  appeared  in  popular  form. 
It  is  full  of  valuable  information  concerning  certain 
abnormal  conditions  in  the  early  Church.  Its  ideal 
for  the  preacher  is  lofty  and  comprehensive.     He 


Tut  Man.  55 

must  "combine  the  qualities  of  dignity  and  humility, 
authority  and  sociability,  impartiality  and  courtesy, 
independence  and  lowliness,  strength  and  gentle- 
ness, and  keep  a  single  eye  to  the  glory  of  God  and 
the  welfare  of  the  Church."  Who  is  sufficient  for 
these  things? 

;But  the  desert  was  calling, — calling".") 
Soon  "after  this  event,  either  by  the  death  of  his 
mother  or  by  her  final  yielding  to  the  fever  that 
burned  in  the  veins  of  her  son,  he  found  himself  free 
to  listen  to  the  promptings  of  his  hungry  soul.  South 
of  Antioch  were  the  mountains,  and  all  through  the 
mountains  were  the  tabernacles  of  the  saints. 
Thither  he  fled  and  here  his  immolation  was  com- 
plete. For  four  years,  clothed  in  a  rude  coat  of 
goats'  skin  over  a  linen  tunic,  sleeping  on  heaps  of 
straw,  he  lived  the  life  for  which  he  had  pined.  It 
was  paradise  after  the  turmoil  and  luxury  of  An- 
tioch. He  has  left  us  a  graphic  program  of  daily 
life  in  these  abodes  of  the  saints.  Before  the  rising 
of  the  sun  they  rise  hale  and  sober ;  sing,  as  with  one 
mouth,  hymns  to  the  praise  of  God ;  then  bend  the 
knee  in  prayer  under  the  direction  of  the  abbot ; 
read  the  Holy  Scriptures;  and  then  go  to  their 
labors.  At  nine  o'clock,  at  twelve,  and  at  three 
come  other  seasons  of  prayer.    After  a  good  day's 


56  Chrysostom  :  Th^  Or.\tor. 

work,  a  simple  meal  of  bread  and  salt,  perhaps  with 
oil  and  sometimes  with  pulse,  they  sing  a  thanks- 
giving hymn,  and  lay  themselves  on  their  pallets 
of  straw  without  care  or  grief  or  murmur. 

In  his  fifty-fifth  Homily  on  Matthew,  he  has  pre- 
served one  of  the  hymns : 

"  Blessed  God  who  feedeth  me  from  my  youth  up. 
Who  giveth  food  to  all  flesh  ; 
Fill  our  hearts  with  joy  and  gladness, 
That  having  sufficiency  at  all  times 
We  may  abound  unto  every  good  work, 
Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord ; 
With  whom  be  unto  Thee 
Glory,  honor,  and  might, 
With  the  Holy  Spirit 
For  evermore.     Amen.'* 

When  one  dies,  the  survivors  say,  "He  is  per- 
fected," and  all  pray  God  for  a  like  end,  that  they 
may  come  to  the  eternal  Sabbath  rest  in  the  vision 
of  Christ.    This  for  four  years. 

But  this  was  not  enough.  The  life  was  too  lan- 
guid and  self-indulgent;  and  so  there  followed  two 
years  of  still  greater  rigor.  He  sought  a  still  more 
solitary  place,  where  he  dwelt  entirely  alone.  Here 
he  shut  himself  up  in  a  cell,  allowed  himself  no  rest, 
never  going  to  bed,  not  even  lying  down  day  or 
night,  but  perpetually  intent  upon  self-mortification 
and  the  study  of  the  Bible. 


iThs;  Man.  57 

It  was  not  a  life  of  idle  contemplation  or  in- 
trospection. His  pen  even  here  was  busy.  Out  of 
the  desert  he  spoke.  The  world  was  not  allowed  to 
forget  him,  though  he  had  rejected  the  world.  The 
letter  to  Demetrius  was  written  in  the  hermit's  cell. 
In  this  letter  he  emphasizes  the  misery  and  woe  of 
the  world.  In  the  companion  letter  to  Stelechius  he 
glorifies  the  life  of  the  ascetic.  Here  also  he  wrote 
his  three  books  against  the  opponents  of  monasti- 
cism.  The  Emperor  Valens  had  issued  a  decree 
against  monks  and  monasticism.  This  decree  was 
a  national  expedient,  as  the  institution  in  question 
had  become  a  national  menace.  Because  of  its 
stress  upon  heaven  and  its  scorn  of  earth,  men  de- 
spised their  citizenship  and  became  drones.  The 
military  front  of  the  empire  was  weakened  because 
of  the  great  host  of  religious  neutrals.  Instead  of 
arming  themselves  against  the  invader,  they  re- 
garded invasion  as  a  judgment  of  God.  They  as- 
sumed an  attitude  of  insolent  superiority.  They 
looked  upon  the  national  evils  with  Pecksniffian 
complacency,  and  their  warnings  against  the  ruin 
of  the  State  were  largely  in  the  form  of  prophecies 
in  which  the  prophet  seemed  to  take  a  diabolical 
pleasure.  Hence  came  the  decree  of  the  great  Arian 
Emperor  Valens,  removing  the  civil  and  military 


58  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

exemptions  of  the  monks,  and  compelling  them  to 
discharge  their  duties  to  the  State.  And  then  came 
the  treatise  of  Chrysostom.  To  him  the  decree 
was  but  little  less  than  sacrilege.  His  reply  is  burn- 
ing and  sincere.  His  words  are  the  words  of  an 
honest  man.  The  veil  has  not  been  taken  from  his 
face.  The  Dead  Sea  fruit  has  not  yet  turned  to 
ashes.  He  sees  only  the  sacred,  tender,  devotional 
side  of  monasticism. 

Indeed  he  never  ceases  to  look  with  reverence 
and  affection  upon  this  institution.  In  his  Homily 
on  "Take  the  young  child  and  his  mother,  and  flee 
into  Egypt,"  he  apostrophizes  Egypt  as  ''the  mother 
of  poets  and  wise  men  and  magicians,  the  inventor 
of  every  kind  of  sorcery,  but  now  taking  pride  in 
the  fishermen  and  protecting  herself  with  the  cross ; 
and  not  in  the  cities  only,  but  in  the  desert  even 
more  than  in  the  cities,  since  everywhere  in  that  land 
may  be  seen  the  camp  of  Christ.  Heaven  is  not 
more  glorious  with  its  encampment  of  shining  stars 
than  the  wilderness  of  Egypt,  studded  with  the  tents 
of  the  monks."  Again,  in  his  sermon  on  "The  Mar- 
riage of  the  King's  Son,"  he  says:  "Call  to  mind 
those  holy  persons  that  wear  garments  of  hair,  that 
dwell  in  the  desert.  If  thou  wert  able  to  open  the 
doors  of  their  mind  and  to  look  upon  their  soul, 


The:  Man.  59 

surely  thou  wouldst  fall  upon  thy  face,  smitten  by 
the  glory  of  their  beauty  and  the  lightning  bright- 
ness of  their  conscience." 

For  six  long  years  he  lived  in  the  midst  of  these 
ideal  conditions.  Here  he  studied  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, practiced  self-denial,  and  waited. 

"And  behind  the  dim  unknown 
Stand eth  God  within  the  shadows, 
Keeping  watch  above  his  own." 


ORDINATION. 

Out  from  the  desert  came  John  of  Antioch  with 

broken  health,  but  with  broadened  horizon.     His 

[.  strong  common  sense  had  become  convinced  that 

j^  there  is  no  special  sacredness  in  suicide.     He  had 

i    learned  that  in  order  to  render  our  bodies  a  living 

1    sacrifice,  they  must  be  living  bodies,  living  in  the 

best  and  quickest  sense;  that  a  live  dog  is  better 

than  a  dead  lion.    At  the  same  time  his  knowledge 

,  of  the  Scriptures  had  been  marvelously  increased, 

and  his  vision  of  God  wonderfully  clarified.     He 

was  thus  better  and  worse  for  his  desert  experience ; 

better,  because  of  an  intimate  realization  of  the  in- 

j  visible ;  worse,  because  his  habits  of  thought,  his 

■  views  of  life,  his  ignorance  of  practical  affairs,  were 

a  serious  handicap  in  the  heyday  of  publicity  toward 

j  which  he  was  hastening. 

j        This  he  understood  to  some  degree.    In  his  work 
'  "On  the  Priesthood,"  he  writes:    "Much  worldly 
wisdom  is  required  of  the  priest;  he  must  be  con- 
versant with  secular  affairs  and  adapt  himself  with 
versatility  to  all  kinds  of  circumstances  and  men. 

60 


The  Man.  6i 

.  .  The  monk  lives  in  a  calm ;  there  is  little  to 
oppose  or  thwart  him.  The  skill  of  the  pilot  could 
not  be  known  till  he  had  taken  the  helm  in  the  open 
sea  amidst  rough  weather.  Too  many  of  those  who 
have  passed  from  the  seclusion  of  the  cloister  to  the 
active  sphere  of  the  priest  or  bishop  prove  utterly 
incapable  of  coping  with  the  difficulties  of  the  new 
situation.  They  get  bewildered,  their  heads  are 
turned,  they  fall  into  a  state  of  helplessness,  and, 
besides  adding  nothing  to  their  experience,  they 
often  lose  that  which  they  brought  with  them." 

He  is  about  to  learn  how  wisely  he  had  written. 
He  is  preparing  to  take  the  helm,  and  the  weather 
promises  to  be  rough  enough.    The  herald  will  soon 
be  in  the  lists  and  the  challenge  will  speedily  be 
sounded,  and  the  young  champion  will  learn  the 
strength  and  the  weakness  of  his  armor.     Imme- 
diately after  his  return  to  civilization  he  was  or- 
dained deacon,  and  a  few  years  later  he  was  made 
I  presbyter.     And  now  the  voice  is  beginning  to  be 
i  heard  which  is  to  affect  the  religious  thinking  of 
I  the  world.     The  pulpit  was  to  be  his  throne,  and 
i  he  has  long  been  fitting  himself  to  occupy  it.    In  the 
i  early  Church  it  was  the  duty  and  privilege  of  the 
bishop  to  preach.       If    a  deacon  or  a  presbyter 
preached,  it  was  as  a  substitute  for  the  bishop.    As 


62  Chrysostom  :  The  Orator. 

the  Church  broadened,  it  was  found  impossible  for 
the  bishop  to  supply  the  demand  for  preaching.  In 
the  time  of  Chrysostom,  while  the  privilege  was 
not  allowed  to  the  deacon,  the  presbyter  was  ex- 
pected to  be  a  preacher.  Hence  the  induction  of 
Chrysostom  into  the  office  of  presbyter  meant  the 
unchaining  of  his  lips,  and  the  world  that  had  waited 
so  long  soon  thrilled  with  his  deathless  words.  His 
first  sermon  is  extant.  It  is  not  promising.  The 
bishop  was  present.  Chrysostom  was  forty  years 
eld,  but  he  had  much  to  learn.  The  sermon  is  alto- 
gether too  fine.  The  pent-up  flames  burst  forth  with 
volcanic  splendor.  Pope  had  the  phenomenon  in 
mind  when  he  wrote: 

"  Fired  at  first  sight  with  what  the  Muse  imparts, 
In  fearless  youth  we  tempt  the  heights  of  art ; 
So  pleased  at  first,  the  towering  Alps  we  try, 
Mount  o'er  the  vales,  and  seem  to  tread  the  sky." 

So  it  was  with  our  ''fearless  youth."  He  soars. 
It  is  all  "towering  Alps."  It  is  embroidered  rhetoric 
gone  wild.  He  flatters  the  bishop  to  his  face,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  this  dignitary  occupied  his  posi- 
tion as  the  result  of  bad  faith  and  a  broken  promise. 
Side  by  side  with  this  glorification  of  a  rather  in- 
glorious bishop  is  a  vast  quantity  of  an  exaggerated 
and  dramatic  self-depreciation.     It  might  be  said, 


The:  Man.  63 

with  apologies  to  Disraeli,  that  it  was  an  acute 
attack  of  intoxication  with  the  exuberance  of  ver- 
bosity. Hear  him :  It  can  scarcely  be  believed  that 
he,  an  insignificant  and  lowly  youth,  should  sud- 
denly find  himself  lifted  to  such  a  height  of  dignity. 
The  vast  multitude  hanging  upon  his  utterance 
quite  unnerved  him,  and  would  have  dried  up  the 
fountain  of  eloquence  even  if  he  had  possessed  any. 
What  should  he  do  if  the  little  trickling  stream  of 
words  should  fail,  and  the  few  feeble  thoughts 
which  he  had  gathered  with  so  much  labor  should 
vanish  from  his  mind  ?  He  wished  to  offer  the  first- 
fruits  of  his  speech  to  God.  He  would  praise  the 
name  of  God  with  a  song,  and  magnify  it  with 
thanksgiving.  But  the  consciousness  of  his  un- 
worthiness  made  him  shrink  from  such  ascriptions; 
for  as  in  the  wreath  not  only  must  the  fiowers  be 
clean,  but  the  hands  which  weave  it,  so  in  sacred 
hymns  not  only  must  the  words  be  holy  but  also 
the  soul  of  him  who  composes  them. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  praising  God,  since,  ac- 
cording to  the  wise  man,  "praise  is  not  becoming 
in  the  mouth  of  a  sinner,"  he  would  rather  dilate 
upon  the  merits  of  some  of  his  fellow-men  who 
were  worthier  than  he.  The  mention  of  their  vir- 
tues would  be  an  indirect  way  of  paying  honor  to 


64  Chrysostom:  Thic  Orator. 

God,  and  this  was  legitimate  even  for  a  sinner.  To 
whom  should  his  praises  be  offered  if  not  to  the 
bishop,  who  is  nothing  less  than  the  teacher  of  the 
country,  the  instructor  of  the  world  ?  But  here  again 
was  he  baffled.  For,  to  enter  fully  into  the  mani- 
fold excellencies  of  this  exalted  personage  was  to 
dive  into  so  vast  a  sea  that  he  feared  that  he  should 
be  lost  in  the  unfathomable  depths.  To  do  justice  to 
such  a  theme  would  require  the  tongue  of  apostles 
and  of  angels.    And  so  on. 

The  vast  audience  was  delighted  with  this  ora- 
torical display,  but,  providentially,  it  had  no  suc- 
cessor in  kind.  The  new  preacher  never  repeated 
his  first  sermon.  He  was  apparently  satisfied  with 
the  effect  he  had  produced,  and  after  this  magnilo- 
quent introduction  he  settled  down  to  his  matchless 
work  as  a  prince  among  preachers. 

Not  more  than  a  year  from  his  inaugural  an 
opportunity  was  given  him  to  prove  his  caliber. 
Theodosius  was  emperor.  The  tenth  anniversary 
of  his  reign  was  at  hand.  At  this  celebration  it 
would  be  necessary  to  make  liberal  donations  to  the 
army.  The  soldiers  had  proved  themselves  expert  at 
making  and  unmaking  emperors,  and  they  must  be 
kept  in  a  good  humor ;  and  so  money  was  very  much 
needed.     But  the  imperial  coffers  were  empty,  the 


The  Man.  65 

imperial  credit  was  low.  The  war  with  Magnus 
Maximus,  the  rebel,  had  been  expensive,  and  much 
moneys  had  been  spent  along  the  frontier  before 
peace  could  be  concluded  with  Athanaride  the  Goth. 
As  usual,  the  people  were  expected  to  pay.  Special 
taxes  were  therefore  ordered,  and  the  machinery 
set  in  operation  which  was  expected  to  grind  out 
the  golden  grist.  The  edict  fell  like  a  pall  upon 
Antioch.  The  people  received  its  announcement  in 
ominous  silence.  The  great  city  was  sullen  and 
dangerous.  The  wiser  counselors  of  the  emperor 
would  have  advised  caution.  But  law  is  law;  the 
edict  had  been  issued,  and  the  officers  were  clothed 
with  arbitrary  power.  Those  who  refused  payment 
were  imprisoned,  and  those  who  resisted  were  ban- 
ished or  hanged. 

And  then  the  storm  broke.  A  great  mob,  made 
up  of  foreign  adventurers  and  vagabonds,  surged 
through  the  streets,  attacked  the  palace  of  the  pre- 
fect, broke  into  the  judgment  hall,  and,  throwing 
down  the  statues  of  Theodosius  and  his  wife  Fla- 
cilla,  broke  them  in  pieces,  and  then  dragged  the 
fragments  through  the  mire  of  the  city.  It  was  a 
deadly  offense.  It  was  an  attack  upon  the  most 
sacred  traditions  of  the  Roman  Empire.  The  wan- 
ton mob  had  not  even  spared  the  memory  of  the 
5 


66  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

queenly  woman  who  but  a  short  time  before  had 
passed  away ;  and  it  had  hacked  to  pieces  the  eques- 
trian statue  of  Count  Theodorus,  father  of  the  em- 
peror, the  just  and  tireless  soldier  who  saved  Brit- 
ain and  reclaimed  Africa,  but  who  was  basely  mur- 
dered *t  Carthage  by  imperial  decree  and  because 
of  imperial  jealousy. 

No  wonder  Theodosius  raved.  No  wonder  the 
aged  Bishop  Flavian  left  behind  him  a  dying  sister 
and  set  out  in  winter  to  make  the  long  journey  of 
eight  hundred  miles  to  Constantinople.  The  Church 
was  the  only  possible  hope,  and  the  voice  of  the 
bishop  was  the  only  possible  voice  to  which  the 
outraged  emperor  might  be  expected  to  listen.  No 
wonder  the  city  was  filled  with  remorse  and  con- 
sternation. Theodosius  was  generous,  but  he  was 
also  just.  He  was  subject  to  mighty  paroxysms  of 
anger.  The  doom  of  Antioch  seemed  to  be  sealed. 
The  magistrates  had  already  begun  their  work  of 
death  while  waiting  the  expected  sentence  from  the 
court. 

Chrysostom  now  stepped  to  the  front.  It  was, 
to  use  a  battered  phrase,  the  "psychological  mo- 
ment." The  empire  was  keeping  Lent.  He  sum- 
moned the  people  to  the  Church  of  the  Apostles. 
He  mounted  the  pulpit,  and  with  marvelous  elo- 


The:  Man.  67 

quence  spoke  of  the  dangers  and  the  hopes  of  the 
city.  Never  before  had  there  been  such  a  dramatic 
situation  and  opportunity.  Never  before  had  such 
sermons  been  preached.  The  anxiety,  the  surprise, 
the  fugitive  rumors,  the  flattering  hopes,  the  awful 
despair,  kept  the  city  in  a  whirlwind  of  excitement, 
and  prepared  the  people  to  listen  to  his  words.  The 
theaters  were  empty,  and  the  men  and  women  came 
in  the  morning  to  the  sanctuary  and  stayed  until 
dark.  So  tense  was  the  excitement  that  the  pick- 
pockets found  a  fruitful  field  in  the  disquieted 
thousands  who  packed  the  church  and  the  adjacent 
streets. 

Day  after  day  the  city  waited  for  tidings,  and 
day  after  day  Chrysostom  thundered  from  the  pul- 
pit. The  people,  wrought  up  to  fever  pitch,  broke 
out  again  and  again  into  applause.  They  even  ap- 
plauded his  impassioned  rebuke  of  applause.  "What 
shall  I  say  or  what  shall  I  speak  of?"  he  asks.  "The 
present  season  is  one  for  wars  and  not  for  words, 
for  lamentation  and  not  for  discussion,  for  prayers 
and  not  for  preaching.  ...  I  mourn  now  and 
lament,  not  for  the  greatness  of  that  wrath  which 
is  to  be  expected,  but  for  the  extravagance  of  the 
frenzy  which  has  been  manifested;  for  although 
the  emperor  should  not  be  provoked,  or  in  anger, 


68  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

although  he  were  neither  to  punish  nor  take  venge- 
ance, how,  I  pray,  are  we  to  bear  the  shame  of 
all  that  has  been  done?"  He  warns  them  to  re- 
nounce selfishness  and  greed,  to  turn  their  backs 
upon  cruelty  and  superstition.  He  inspires  them 
to  courage  and  patience.  He  reminds  them  that 
the  philosophers  of  this  world  have  forsaken  the 
city  and  deserted  their  kindred,  and  have  concealed 
themselves  in  caves.  He  points  to  the  monks  who 
have  hastened  into  the  city,  poor,  lean,  ragged,  and 
hungry,  but  breathing  the  spirit  of  their  mountains 
and  fearless  as  the  desert  lion,  to  stand  or  fall  with 
the  unhappy  citizens.  He  persuades  them  to  have 
confidence  because  of  the  sacred  season  through 
which  they  are  passing,  the  season  of  Lent,  which 
even  the  unbelievers  respect,  and  which  is  held  in 
such  reverence  by  the  divinely  favored  Theodosius ; 
that  now  if  ever  the  emperor  will  have  mercy.  He 
reminds  them  of  a  recent  earthquake,  and  says: 
'Xately  our  city  was  shaken ;  now  the  very  souls  of 
the  inhabitants  totter.  Then  the  foundations  of  the 
houses  shook;  now  the  foundation  of  every  heart 
quivers."  He  even  suggests  that  their  extreme  fear 
is  a  reflection  upon  their  faith,  a  ''making  provision 
for  the  lusts  of  the  flesh;"  that  the  true  Christian 
is  ready  at  any  moment  for  "tribulation  or  distress 


The  Man.  69 

or  persecution  or  famine  or  nakedness  or  peril  or 
sword,"  or  even  for  death. 

These  are  the  famous  "Homilies  on  the  Stat- 
ues." They  are  twenty  in  all.  The  first  was  de- 
livered before  the  insurrection,  and  is  included  in 
the  number  because  referred  to  in  the  second.  It 
is  from  the  text,  ''Drink  a  little  wine  for  thy  stom- 
ach's sake  and  thine  often  infirmities."  This  is  not  by 
any  means  a  temperance  sermon.  He  sees  no  harm 
in  a  little  wine  provided  it  is  little  enough.  He  sug- 
gests possible  stomach  disorders  from  the  use  of 
water.  There  is  much  drinking  water  in  the  East 
even  yet  that  might  plead  guilty  to  this  indictment. 
Some  modern  readers  might  be  inclined  to  see  a 
relation  of  cause  and  effect  between  the  sermon 
and  the  sedition,  only  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  the  wild  mob  was  at  all  affected  by  strong 
drink.  A  most  telling  illustration  has  thus  been  lost 
to  the  teetotaler. 

The  preacher  then  refers  to  his  first  sermon : 
*'I  made  a  prolonged  discourse  lately  unto  you,  be- 
loved. Yet  I  saw  all  following  it  up  and  no  one 
turning  back  in  the  middle  of  the  course.  I  return 
thanks  to  you  for  that  readiness,  and  have  received 
the  reward  of  my  labors.  But  there  was  another 
reward  besides  your  attention  which  I  asked  of  you : 


70  Chrysostom:  Th^  Orator. 

.  .  .  that  you  should  punish  and  chasten  the 
blasphemers  that  were  in  the  city;  that  you  should 
restrain  those  who  are  violent  and  insolent  toward 
God.  .  .  .  God,  seeing  what  was  coming,  in- 
jected these  things  into  my  mind;  for  if  we  had 
punished  those  who  dared  to  do  these  things,  that 
which  has  now  happened  would  never  have  hap- 
pened. The  crime  was  that  of  a  few,  but  the  blame 
was  to  all.  If  we  had  taken  them  in  time  and  cast 
them  out  of  the  city,  we  should  not  have  been  sub- 
jected to  our  present  terror.  ...  It  is  not 
sufficient  for  us  to  say  in  defense,  'I  was  not  pres- 
ent; I  was  not  an  accomplice  nor  a  participator  in 
these  riots.'  For  this  very  reason  shalt  thou  be 
punished  because  thou  wast  not  present,  and  didst 
not  check  the  rioters,  and  didst  not  run  any  risk 
for  the  honor  of  the  emperor." 

The  Second  Homily,  from  which  the  last  quo- 
tation is  made,  followed  immediately  upon  the  van- 
dalism of  the  people.  The  Third  relates  to  the  de- 
parture of  Flavian,  the  bishop  who  went  to  Con- 
stantinople to  intercede  for  the  city.  This  was  de- 
livered on  the  Sunday  before  Lent.  It  began  most 
dramatically :  ''When  I  look  upon  that  throne  [the 
bishop's],  deserted  and  bereft  of  our  teacher,  I  re- 
joice and  weep  at  the  same  time.     I  weep  because 


Tnt  Man.  7t 

I  see  not  our  father  with  us;  but  I  rejoice  because 
he  hath  set  out  on  a  journey  for  our  preservation; 
that  he  is  gone  to  snatch  so  great  a  multitude  from 
the  wrath  of  the  emperor!  Here  is  both  an  orna- 
ment to  you  and  a  crown  to  him !  An  ornament  to 
you,  that  such  a  father  hath  been  allotted  to  you; 
a  crown  to  him,  because  he  is  so  affectionate 
towards  his  children,  and  hath  confirmed  by  actual 
deeds  what  Christ  said.  For  having  learned  that 
'the  Good  Shepherd  layeth  down  His  life  for  the 
sheep,'  he  took  his  departure,  venturing  his  own 
life  for  us  all."  Here  is  a  suggestion  of  his  methods, 
a  glimpse  of  his  marvelous  power.  The  most 
formal,  the  most  evenly  balanced  and  studiously 
poised  audience  would  vibrate  to  a  touch  like  that. 

The  Fourth  Homily  was  delivered  on  Monday. 
From  this  on,  he  spoke  nearly  every  day,  alternately 
bidding  them  hope  for  mercy  and  fortifying  them 
against  threatened  despair ;  now  commending  them 
for  a  marked  improvement  in  the  moral  condition 
of  the  city,  now  holding  up  the  entire  incident  as  a 
dispensation  of  Providence  to  shake  the  sloth  from 
the  minds  of  the  people  and  to  kindle  a  flame  of 
righteousness. 

The  Seventeenth  Homily  is  memorable  in  that 
it  was   spoken   after  the   imperial    commissioners. 


72  Chrysostom:  Th^  Orator. 

Ellebichus  and  Caesarius,  sent  by  Theodosius  to  in- 
vestigate the  outrage,  had  reached  the  city. 

These  officers  were  known  to  be  men  of  high 
character.  They  would  give  a  fair  hearing.  The 
matter  was  safe  in  their  hands.  Moreover,  the 
sentence  they  brought  was  so  much  Hghter  than  was 
feared  that  a  great  wave  of  relief  swept  over  the 
city.  Chrysostom  breaks  out  into  thanksgiving: 
''Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  who  only  doeth 
wondrous  things.  For  marvelous  and  beyond  all 
expectation  are  the  things  which  have  happened! 
A  whole  city,  and  so  great  a  population,  when  just 
about  to  be  overwhelmed,  to  sink  under  the  weaves 
and  to  be  entirely  and  instantly  destroyed,  He  hath 
entirely  rescued  from  shipwreck  in  a  single  moment 
of  time !"  ''We  had  expected  innumerable  woes ; 
that  our  property  would  be  plundered;  that  the 
houses  would  be  burned,  together  with  their  in- 
mates ;  that  the  city  would  be  plucked  up  from  the 
midst  of  the  world;  that  its  very  fragments  would 
be  entirely  destroyed,  and  that  its  soil  would  be 
placed  under  the  plow.  But  lo!  these  things  ex- 
isted only  in  expectation,  and  did  not  come  into 
operation."  "Let  us  give  thanks,  not  only  that  God 
hath  calmed  the  tempest,  but  that  He  hath  suffered 
it  to  take  place ;  not  only  that  He  rescued  us  from 


The  Man.  73 

shipwreck,  but  that  he  allowed  us  to  fall  into  distress 
and  such  an  extreme  peril  to  hang  over  us.  For 
St.  Paul  bids  us  *in  ever}^thing  give  thanks.'  " 

But  Chrysostom  was  not  alone.  The  hermits 
came  flocking  into  the  city.  Careless  of  the  people 
while  the  people  were  happy  and  safe,  when  the 
dark  days  came  they  left  their  mountain  caves  and 
desert  cells,  and,  besieging  the  government  palace, 
they  offered  to  die  for  the  people.  As  the  commis- 
sioners were  passing  to  the  court  on  the  day  after 
their  arrival,  a  weird-looking,  ragged,  half-starved 
man  flung  himself  in  the  way  of  the  horses  and 
ordered  them  to  stop.  It  was  ^Macedonius,  the  her- 
mit. "Take  this  message  to  the  emperor,"  he  said. 
*''Man  is  made  in  the  image  of  God.  Do  not  destroy 
the  image  lest  you  anger  the  Artist.  For  one  statue 
of  brass  destroyed  you  can  erect  a  thousand;  but 
destroy  a  human  life,  and  not  one  single  hair  can 
be  restored."  The  commissioners  pledged  them- 
selves to  postpone  the  sentence  of  punishment,  and 
made  an  appeal  to  the  emperor,  one  of  them  even 
undertaking  to  convey  the  letter  written  by  the 
hermits  to  Constantinople. 

In  seven  days  this  commissioner,  Caesarius,  had 
traveled  the  eight  hundred  miles,  and  had  reached 
Constantinople.    But  Flavian  had  anticipated  him, 


74  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

had  secured  audience  with  Theodosius,  and  had 
made  his  appeal.  He  shrewdly  allowed  the  em- 
peror to  do  all  the  talking  first.  He  listened  with 
bowed  head  and  tearful  eyes  to  the  dignified  state- 
ment of  his  imperial  master,  the  bitter  charge  of  in- 
gratitude against  the  city  of  Antioch  in  attacking 
their  royal  benefactor,  and  of  the  heartless  ribaldry 
with  which  they  had  Insulted  even  the  dead.  Then 
the  bishop  pleaded  for  mercy.  He  admitted  the 
wrong;  he  deplored  the  insult;  he  acknowledged 
that  it  was  impossible  to  make  explanation,  repara- 
tion, or  apology ;  and  he  simply  threw  himself  upon 
the  mercy  of  the  court.  With  princely  grace,  the 
emperor  granted  mercy,  and  the  bishop  hastened 
back  to  Antioch,  and  was  received  with  acclama- 
tions of  joy.  The  city  was  wild;  the  forum  was 
festooned  with  garlands;  doors  and  windows  were 
decorated  with  couches  of  green  leaves;  and,  to 
crown  it  all,  the  great  preacher  gathered  the  people 
in  the  church  and  once  more  spoke  in  words  of 
splendid  eloquence. 

It  might  be  too  modern  to  say  that  the  sedition 
and  the  sermons  were  followed  by  a  sweeping  re- 
vival of  religion;  but,  at  any  rate,  the  effect  was 
marked.  Even  the  most  determined  opponents  of 
Christianity  could  not  help  discerning  the  hand  of 


The  Man.  75 

Christianity  in  the  great  deliverance.       It  was  a 
bishop  of  the  Church  who  had  hurried  to  Constanti- 
nople and  had  appealed  to  the  emperor  as  a  Chris- 
tian.     It  was  a  recluse  of    the  Church  who  had 
changed  the  purpose  of  the  'judges,  and  a  letter 
signed  by  Christian  hermits  was  borne  by  the  judges 
to  the  imperial  court.     It  was  a  Christian  preacher 
to  whom  the  multitudes,  shut  out  of  the  baths  and 
theater,  listened  day  after  day  when  speaker  and 
hearers  were  dominated  by  the  same  purpose  and 
magnetized  by  the  same  hopes.    It  is  not  surprising, 
therefore,  that  hundreds  of  unbelievers  were  con- 
vinced, that  the  cause  of  the  true  faith  was  glori- 
ously advanced,  and  that  John  the  Presbyter  was 
henceforth  to  be  known  as  the  Prince  of  Pulpit  Ora- 
tors, the  pride  of  Antioch,  the  mightiest  champion 
of  the  truth  in  all  the  wonderful  East.     It  was  an 
advanced  class  of  the  school  in  which  he  was  being 
trained ;  an  exalted  place  was  waiting,  and  he  must 
make  himself  ready. 

During  these  years  he  delivered  many  of  his 
greatest  sermons.  It  was  a  quiet  and  industrious 
life  for  the  most  part.  As  a  result  we  have  sixty- 
seven  sermons  on  Genesis,  sixty  on  the  Psalms, 
ninety  on  the  Gospel  of  Matthew,  eighty-eight  on 
the  Gospel  of  John,  and  a  large  number  on  Romans, 


76  Chrysostom:  Th^  Orator. 

Corinthians,  Galatians,  Ephesians,  and  Timothy. 
And  thus  did  he  come  to  the  year  397  A.  D. 

In  the  meantime  great  events  were  passing  in 
the  outside  world.  This  same  Theodosius,  who  had 
yielded  so  courteously  to  the  pleading  of  Flavian, 
had  turned  the  circus  of  Thessalonica  into  a 
shambles.  The  people  of  this  city  had  murdered  the 
governor  of  Illyria  and  many  of  the  chief  officials 
because  a  renegade  charioteer  had  been  imprisoned 
by  the  authorities,  and  thus  kept  away  from  the 
games.  It  was  an  aggravated  case,  as  the  culprit 
deserved  all  the  punishment  he  received,  and  the  ac- 
tion of  the  populace  was  highhanded  and  revolu- 
tionary. In  stormy  passion,  Theodosius  sent  his 
avengers  to  the  city  with  orders  to  spare  neither  in- 
nocent nor  guilty.  The  people  were  penned  in  the 
circus,  and  seven  thousand  of  them  were  slaugh- 
tered in  three  hours. 

Again  did  Christianity  rise  to  the  occasion.  Am- 
brose, the  magnificent  Bishop  of  Milan,  forbade  the 
emperor  to  enter  the  church  during  divine  service. 
The  latter  protested,  he  pleaded,  he  even  at- 
tempted to  violate  the  law  by  force ;  but  the  bishop 
was  calm  and  inexorable,  and  not  until  the  emperor 
laid  himself  prostrate  upon  the  ground  and  implored 
forgiveness  w^as  the  ban  removed.     The  ecclesias- 


The)  Man.  77 

tical  organization  was  developing  a  giant^s  strength. 
Less  than  a  hundred  years  after  Christianity  was 
acknowledged  as  the  national  religion,  Theodosius, 
the  mighty  emperor,  the  unconquerable  soldier,  the 
autocrat,  the  fierce,  ungovernable  master  of  the 
world,  the  terror  of  the  Goths  and  the  restorer  of 
the  empire  of  Constantine,  was  on  his  knees,  suing 
for  mercy  at  the  hands  of  the  Church.  Indeed,  into 
his  own  special  domain  the  Church  had  gone.  In 
the  realm  of  military  law  and  civil  justice  the  em- 
peror had  been  regarded  as  supreme.  Even  here 
came  the  young  Church,  and  laying  its  hands  on 
his  scepter  had  said,  ''Halt  and  retract,"  and  he  had 
obeyed. 
A  The  battle  near  the  River  Frigidus  had  been 

fought.  Here  was  another  clash  between  Chris- 
tianity and  recrudescent  Paganism  in  the  person 
of  the  grammarian  Eugenius,  who,  instigated  by 
Arbogastes  the  Frank,  aspired  to  be  emperor.  After 
a  vision  of  St.  Philip  and  St.  John  on  white  horses, 
seen  by  himself  and  one  of  his  soldiers — history  has 
i  not  preserved  the  lucky  soldier's  name — the  empe- 
\  ror  rode  into  battle,  shouting,  "Where  is  the  Lord 
God  of  Theodosius?"  The  stars  in  their  courses 
fought  against  the  soldiers  of  Jupiter  and  Hercules 
under  the  banner  of  Eugenius.    At  any  rate  a  great 


78  Chrysostom:  Thk  Orator. 

storm  blew  their  arrows  back  upon  them,  accordmg 
to  the  concurrent  testimony  of  the  Church  historians 
of  the  day,  the  hosts  of  the  usurper  were  defeated, 
and  the  last  hopes  of  Paganism  were  stamped  out 
in  blood. 

One  year  after  this  (A.  D.  395)  the  emperor 
died.  And  after  him,  the  deluge.  "His  life  lies 
like  a  ruined  sea-wall  amidst  the  fierce  barbaric 
tide,  leaving  ravaged  lands  beyond."  His  work 
was  only  partially  done.  It  was  a  gloomy  day  for 
the  empire  and  for  the  world  when  he  passed  away. 
His  two  sons,  Honorius  and  Arcadius,  were  sullen, 
stupid,  half-imbecile.  Honorius  was  made  ruler  of 
the  West;  Arcadius  inherited  Constantinople.  The 
empire  was  split  into  two  fragments  at  the  grave  of 
Theodosius,  and  was  never  united. 

In  397  A.  D.  the  Bishop  of  Constantinople  died. 
His  name  was  Nectarius,  though  perhaps  the  world 
is  but  little  interested  in  his  name,  as  the  world  was 
but  very  little  affected  by  his  bishopric.  For  six- 
teen years,  or  since  the  resignation  of  Gregory  Na- 
zianzen,  the  great  Cappadocian,  he  had  reaped  the 
emoluments  and  enjoyed  the  ease  and  luxury  of  this 
high  office.  He  lived  in  the  glamour  of  universal 
praise,  and  died  in  the  odor  of  sanctity.  His  death 
was  the  noblest  service  he  could  render  his  fellow- 


The  Man.  79 

men,  since  it  made  vacant  the  throne.    His  peerless 
snccessor  was  forewritten. 

At  his  death  there  was  at  once  the  confusion  of 
intrigue  and  of  partisanship.  The  Church  became, 
according  to  Chrysostom,  Hke  Euripus,  a  narrow, 
rapid,  dangerous  strait  of  whirlpools  and  shallows 
between  Euboea  and  Greece.  Constantinople  seems 
to  have  been  more  modern  than  Antioch  in  its  eccle- 
siastical polity.  There  was  no  dearth  of  candidates 
for  the  episcopal  office,  and  no  lack  of  henchmen 
and  grooms-of-the-chamber  who  were  ready  with 
the  right  man  for  the  place.  We  now  get  our  first 
glimpse  of  Theophilus,  the  Patriarch  of  Alexandria. 
He  came  to  electioneer  for  Isidore.  We  shall  meet 
his  reverence  again.  But  the  power  behind  the 
throne  was  Eutropius,  the  chamberlain  of  the*  pal- 
ace. He  had  heard  some  of  the  sermons  of  John  at 
Antioch.  They  had  deeply  impressed  him.  He 
might  not  be  a  very  safe  judge  of  preaching,  but  he 
had  a  way  of  bringing  things  to  pass.  He  also  had 
knowledge  of  certain  treasonable  passages  in  the 
life  of  Theophilus.  The  crafty  Patriarch  had, 
once  upon  a  time,  when  two  candidates  were  fight- 
ing for  the  throne,  sent  a  messenger  so  instructed 
and  a  message  so  couched  that  it  would  be  a  cordial 
indorsement  of  either  candidate,     So,  when  Eutro- 


8o  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

plus  presented  the  name  of  John  of  Antioch,  The- 
ophilus  suddenly  quieted  down,  while  Arcadius  at 
once  approved  of  the  selection. 

Afar  in  Antioch  our  hero  was  busy  preaching  to 
the  multitude,  visiting  the  poor,  grappling  with  an- 
tiquated heathen  customs  that  still  obtained  among 
the  people,  burning  books  of  magic,  happily  indif- 
ferent to  the  storm  that  was  raging  in  Constanti- 
nople, and  totally  unconscious  of  the  revolution  that 
was  about  to  take  place  in  his  own  life.  Then,  one 
fateful  day,  Asterius,  the  Count  of  Antioch  and 
representative  of  the  emperor,  invited  him  to  drive 
to  a  martyr  chapel  just  outside  the  gate,  on  private 
business.  It  was  in  obedience  to  secret  orders  from 
Constantinople,  for  Antioch  would  have  risen  in 
uproar  and  rebellion  had  the  emperor's  purpose  been 
known.  Once  outside  the  city  gates,  the  unsuspect- 
ing preacher  was  quietly  transferred  to  the  royal 
chariot,  and  then,  in  charge  of  palace  guards  and 
against  his  earnest  remonstrance,  he  was  hurried  to 
the  court  of  the  emperor.  Here,  without  any  delay, 
he  was  presented  for  ordination,  and  Theophilus 
was  chosen  to  perform  the  ceremony.  But  there 
was  something  in  the  face  of  this  bucolic  presbyter, 
this  short-statured,  hollow-cheeked,  keen-eyed  as- 
cetic, that  stirred  vague  and  unpleasant  emotions  in 


Th^  Man.  3i 

the  breast  of  Theophilus.     He  therefore  refused  to 
obey  the  mandate  of  the  court..   After  an  interview 
with  Eutropius,  however,  he  swallowed  his  resent- 
ment, and  so,  on  the  26th  day  of  February,  398 
A.  D.,  John  of  the  Golden  Mouth  was  elevated  to 
the  episcopal  throne,  and  Constantinople  and  the 
Eastern  world  might  well  hold  its  breath,  for  great 
deeds  were  bound  to  follow.     Clearly  did  the  far- 
sighted  scholar  discern  the  steep  path  on  which  he 
had  entered,  and  the  dark-visaged  Theophilus  never 
forgot  his  own  humiliation,  never  forgave  the  inno- 
cent cause  thereof. 


EXALTATION. 

Chrysostom  now  stood  at  the  center  of  the  an- 
cient world.  By  the  Council  of  381,  the  Bishop  of 
Constantinople  was  given  primacy  of  honor  and 
authority  next  to  the  bishop  of  Rome.  The  pres- 
ence of  the  emperor  and  the  court  added  to  this 
dignity. 

Let  us  get  in  our  mind  a  picture  of  some  of  the 
prominent  features  of  the  city  as  it  appeared  to  the 
new  bishop.  Along  the  Bosporus,  and  occupying 
the  southeastern  section,  was  a  park  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  acres.  Within  this  was  the  imperial  palace. 
Here  also  were  extensive  gardens  and  pleasure- 
grounds.  A  wall  running  north  from  the  light- 
house, across  the  promontory  about  a  mile  to  the 
sea  again,  shut  in  the  park  from  the  city.  Just  out- 
side this  wall  were  the  baths  of  Zeuxippus.  The 
courts  of  this  vast  building  were  adorned  with  the 
old  Greek  masterpieces:  the  Zeus  of  Dodona,  the 
Amphitrite  of  Rhodes,  the  x\thene  of  Lyndus.  Next 
to  the  baths  came  the  senate  house,  and  next  and 
connected  with  the  senate  house  by  a  colonnade 
82 


The  Man.  83' 

was  the  palace  of  the  Patriarch.  Here  Chrysostom 
was  to  Hve,  backed  up  by  the  imperial  buildings, 
and  fronting  the  marble-paved  Augusteum,  where 
Constantine  had  placed  a  bronze  statue  of  Apollo, 
which  was  made  to  do  duty  for  himself  by  substitut- 
ing his  own  head  for  the  head  of  the  god. 

Beyond  this  stood  the  hippodrome,  a  magnificent 
circus  embellished  with  three  monuments,  which 
may  be  found  in  the  Constantinople  of  to-day,  oc- 
cupying their  original  positions,  the  obelisk  brought 
from  Egypt,  the  three-headed  serpent  of  brass  dedi- 
cated at  Delphi  by  Pausanius,  and  a  square  column 
of  bronze  of  more  modern  workmanship.  Over 
the  gate  through  which  the  horses  entered  stood  the 
quadriga,  or  four  bronze  horses  of  Lysippus.  This 
group  was  originally  set  up  in  Athens  and  has  had 
a  remarkable  history.  In  1206,  when  Constanti- 
nople was  stormed  by  the  Crusaders,  the  Venetians 
laid  claim  to  these  four  horses  and  bore  them  to 
their  island  city.  They  set  them  up  at  the  arsenal, 
and  afterward  fixed  them  over  the  west  front  of 
San  Marco.  In  1797  when  Venice  was  handed  over 
to  Austria  by  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio,  Napo- 
leon despoiled  the  despoiler  and  carried  these  horses 
to  Paris,  where  they  were  given  a  prominent  posi- 
tion on  ly'Arc  de  Triomphe.     Finally,  in  181 5,  at 


84  Chrysostom:  The;  Orator. 

the  breaking  up  of  the  world  after  Waterloo,  these 
much-traveled  animals  were  taken  back  to  Venice, 
and  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  multitude  were  re- 
stored to  their  original  place  over  the  entrance  of 
San  Marco.  Here  they  stand  to-day,  the  only 
horses  in  the  beautiful  city;  whose  unseeing  eyes 
have  looked  upon  strange  and  wonderful  scenes  and 
under  whose  motionless  hoofs,  since  first  the  artist 
gave  them  form,  have  passed  the  pomp  and  power 
and  tumult  of  two  thousand  restless  years. 

North  of  the  Hippodrome,  and  but  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  palace  of  the  patriarch,  was  the 
great  St.  Sophia,  where  the  new  bishop  was  des- 
tined to  be  supreme.  From  the  west  door  of  this 
church  was  builded  a  gallery  supported  by  arches, 
crossing  the  square  and  leading  to  the  royal  gate 
of  the  imperial  inclosure.  Through  this  the  em- 
peror and  his  family  might  pass  unseen  from  his 
palace  to  the  church. 

Here  was  the  heart  of  the  city.  Here  the  peo- 
ple came  to  walk  in  the  cool  of  the  day.  Here  they 
flocked  to  witness  the  great  chariot  races  between 
the  two  factions,  "The  Blues"  and  "The  Greens." 
And  here  these  same  factions  gathered  their  clans, 
and  more  than  once  threatened  to  overthrow  the 
city  government.     Here  the  emperor,  seated  in  the 


Th^  Man.  85 

great  central  throne  in  the  Kathlsma,  or  royal  box, 
which  occupied  the  northern  end  of  the  Hippo- 
drome, showed  himself  frequently  to  the  people. 
Here,  on  Sundays  and  on  feast-days,  the  multitude 
thronged  St.  Sophia  to  listen  to  the  bishop  as  he 
thundered  against  the  ostentatious  display  of  the 
nobility,  the  gross  superstitions  of  the  masses,  and 
the  laxity  of  the  clergy. 

The  social  conditions  at  Constantinople  were  no 
better  and  they  were  no  worse  than  might  be  ex- 
pected at  the  time  and  under  the  circumstances. 
With  a  population  hastily  gathered  together  from 
every  part  of  the  empire,  a  dying  Paganism  whose 
purer  ideals  have  perished,  and  whose  superstitions 
and  sensualities  remain;  a  new  Christianity  not  yet 
in  control  of  the  lives  of  the  people,  with  its  tenets 
tmformed  and  its  standards  uncertain;  a  wild,  un- 
controlled, irresponsible  mixture  of  Northern  bar- 
barism and  Western  knight-errantry  and  Eastern 
voluptuousness, — here  is  the  compound,  and  it 
swarms  with  the  elements  of  disorder. 

But,  as  has  been  said,  it  was  no  worse  than  might 
have  been  expected.  Lecky,  in  his  "History  of 
European  Morals,"  writes  of  life  in  Constantinople 
as  follows:  *'The  universal  verdict  of  history  is 
that  it  constituted  the  most  base  and  despicable 


86  Chrysostom:  The  Orator. 

form  that  civilization  ever  assumed,  and  that  there 
has  been  no  other  enduring  civilization  so  abso- 
lutely destitute  of  all  forms  and  elements  of  great- 
ness, none  to  which  the  epithet  mean  may  be  so  em- 
phatically applied.  It  is  a  monstrous  story  of  in- 
trigues of  priests,  eunuchs,  and  women;  of  poison- 
ing conspiracies,  uniform  ingratitude,  perpetual 
fratricide."  Here  speaks  the  disciple  of  Gibbon. 
And  the  Christian  world  has  accepted  this  libel  of 
the  rationalist  without  a  dissent  or  a  murmur.  A 
later  school  of  historians  is  investigating  for  itself 
these  early  conditions,  and  is  reaching  vastly  dif- 
ferent conclusions.  For  instance,  it  is  an  established 
fact  that  Christianity,  even  in  its  confused  and  im- 
mature stage,  raised  the  morals  of  the  East  to  a 
higher  level  than  had  been  known  for  a  thousand 
years.  The  orgies  of  Isis  and  Daphne  had  been  out- 
lawed. The  hermits  who  came  hurrying  into  An- 
tioch  at  the  time  of  danger  to  the  city  were  a  de- 
cided improvement  upon  the  priests  of  Rhea  and 
of  Dionysus,  obviously  superior  to  the  self-con- 
tained, self-satisfied  pagan  philosophers  who  disap- 
peared as  soon  as  bodily  harm  was  threatened.  The 
gladiatorial  shows  of  Rome,  one  of  the  most  re- 
pulsive features  of  Roman  life,  were  never  tolerated 
in   Constantinople.       The   nameless   crimes   which 


,Th^  Man.  87 

were  the  open  practice  of  the  earlier  emperors,  were 
capital  offenses  under  Justinian.  Not  a  single 
tyrant  of  the  old  school  was  produced  in  the  three 
hundred  years  from  Constantine  to  Heraclius. 

The  people  have  been  called  weak  and  cowardly. 
This  is  not  the  testimony  of  the  defeated  and  humil- 
iated Goths  and  Vandals.  This  is  not  the  reading 
of  the  bitter  Persian  wars  and  the  shock  after  shock 
of  Saracen  invasion  met  and  broken  for  four  hun- 
dred bloody  years.  The  same  people  have  been 
charged  with  "treason,  stratagems,  and  spoils."  And 
yet  in  three  hundred  years  not  one  legitimate  ruler 
was  dethroned,  although  the  highest  military  posi- 
tions were  within  reach  of  the  lowest,  and  prefer- 
ment at  court  was  quick  and  unchallenged,  when 
there  was  ability,  for  Goth  and  Persian,  Syrian  and 
Copt.  Gainas  and  Stilicho  and  Rufinus  and  Belisa- 
rius  are  names  to  juggle  with,  but  they  are  not  fam- 
ily names  of  Constantinople.  These  men  were 
aliens.  By  their  supreme  ability  they  reached  the 
highest  places.  They  found  a  ready  following  when 
their  swords  were  unsheathed  against  the  foes  of 
the  empire ;  they  found  a  ready  sword  when  they 
became  foes. 

It  may  be  asked,  in  the  presence  of  these  facts, 
what  is  the  meaning  of  the  deadly  feud  between 


S8  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

Chrysostom  and  Constantinople?  The  explanation 
is  that  Chrysostom  was  an  ascetic,  and  he  was  fear- 
lessly and  fearfully  honest.  He  not  only  impaled  the 
graft  and  intrigue  of  politics,  but  he  lampooned  the 
cosmetics  of  society  and  the  indecencies  of  the 
theater.  It  was  not  that  Constantinople  was  un- 
usually base,  but  Chrysostom  was  categorically 
frank,  and  such  a  man  with  such  a  message  would 
create  a  sensation  in  any  age,  not  excepting  this 
year  of  grace  and  this  century  of  complacency  and 
of  social  poise. 

Moreover,  our  preacher  was  not  satisfied  with 
generalities.  He  did  not  deal  in  blank  cartridges. 
He  always  took  ruthless  aim,  and  there  was  not  a 
trick  of  the  market,  not  a  subterfuge  of  politics,  not 
even  an  article  of  dress,  that  was  out  of  range.  He 
pictures  the  life  of  the  spendthrift,  ^'rocked  as  with 
a  tempest  when  he  longs  for  that  which  is  still  be- 
yond him,  despised  by  his  servants,  insulted  by  his 
inferiors,  with  ten  thousand  ready  to  accuse  him 
and  to  condemn  his  costly  living."  He  gives  the 
husband  minute  directions  how  to  reform  a  wife 
who  is  *'fond  of  dress,  gaping  and  eager  after  modes 
of  painting  the  face,  talkative,  and  foolish,"  though 
he  admits  it  is  not  at  all  likely  that  all  these  weak- 
nesses are  to  be  found  in  one  woman.    He  waxes 


Th^  Man.  89 

eloquent  over  the  shoes  worn  by  the  young  exqui- 
sites of  his  day  because  they  use  shoestrings  of  silk. 
"A  ship  is  built,  manned  with  sailors,  furnished 
with  pilots ;  the  sails  are  spread,  the  sea  is  crossed, 
wife  and  children  left  at  home  alone ;  the  merchant 
commits  his  life  to  the  waves ;  then  enters  the  land 
of  Barbarians,  and  after  countless  risks  he  secures 
these  silken  strings,  that,  after  all,  you  may  place 
them  in  your  shoes.  So  on  the  earth  the  eyes  are 
fixed,  instead  of  upon  heaven,  filled  with  anxiety 
as  you  walk  on  tiptoe  through  the  Forum  lest  you 
will  stain  them  with  mud  in  winter  or  cover  them 
with  dust  when  summer  is  at  hand.  .  .  .  The 
gold  bit  on  your  horse,  the  gold  circlet  on  the  wrist 
of  your  slave,  the  gilding  on  your  shoes,  mean  that 
you  are  robbing  the  orphan  and  starving  the  widow. 
When  you  have  passed  away,  each  passer-by  who 
looks  upon  your  great  mansion  will  say,  'How  many 
tears  did  he  take  to  build  that  mansion;  how  many 
orphans  were  stripped ;  how  many  widows  wronged ; 
how  many  laborers  deprived  of  their  honest  wages  ?' 
Even  death  itself  will  not  deliver  you  from  your 
accuser." 

Such  were  his  pulpit  ministrations.  In  addition 
to  this,  the  personal  equation  must  not  be  over- 
looked.    Our  court  preacher  was  not  a  courtier. 


90  Chrysostom  :  Thk  Orator. 

He  was  not  a  subtle  statesman  like  Ambrose,  not  a 
superb  organizer  Ifke  Basil  the  Great,  not  an  im- 
personal, imperturbable  stoic  like  Athanasius.  He 
was  irritable,  suspicious,  easily  imposed  upon,  ig- 
norant of  the  world,  impatient  of  contradiction. 
He  carried  into  the  bishop's  palace  the  asceticism  of 
the  mountain  cave.  With  digestion  broken  down 
by  his  hermit  mortifications,  he  denied  himself  all 
social  enjoyments  and  conventions.  He  carted  off 
the  rich  plate  and  luxurious  furnishings  of  the 
palace,  and  sold  them  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor. 
He  had  no  mercy  for  shams  and  no  tact  in  dealing 
with  them.  Ardent  in  temperament,  he  could  not 
understand  neutrality.  Absolutely  transparent  him- 
self, he  could  not  tolerate  fraud.  He  came  to  a 
court  that  had  patronized  its  bishops,  and  to  an 
episcopal  palace  that  had  been  but  a  branch  office 
of  Vanity  Fair,  and  he  brought  the  mean  attire  of 
the  cloister  and  the  fresh,  rude,  unconventional 
ideals  of  the  desert.  He  was  a  Satyr  in  the  halls  of 
Hyperion,  and  it  was  soon  war  to  the  death. 

His  first  attack  was  upon  the  clergy.  A  peculiar 
custom  had  obtained.  Many  of  the  celibate  priests 
had  taken  unmarried  women  into  their  homes  to 
keep  house  for  them.  These  housekeepers  were 
called  "spiritual  sisters."     The  custom  runs  back 


The:  Man.  91 

to  an  early  age,  and  to  these  females  was  applied 
the  technical  name  crwetb-aKTat — ''the  sub-intro- 
duced." This  custom  had  given  rise  to  much  scan- 
dal. The  new  bishop  determined  upon  reform.  He 
not  only  summoned  these  women  to  a  private  inter- 
view, but  he  delivered  two  sermons  on  the  subject. 
He  did  not  mince  matters.  He  called  plain  things 
by  plain  names.  He  even  said  that  a  bishop  who 
allowed  such  a  condition  to  exist  was  worse  than  a 
"pander."  Chrysostom  was  perfectly  right,  but  he 
was  not  adroit.  He  did  not  try  to  be ;  it  is  doubtful 
if  he  even  wished  to  be.  He  destroyed  the  hornet's 
nest,  but  he  stirred  up  the  hornets,  and  they  were 
to  sting  him  by  and  by. 

He  set  about  reorganizing  the  financial  methods 
at  the  palace.  His  predecessors  had  been  careless 
and  obliging.  No  account  had  been  kept,  no  reck- 
oning had  ever  been  demanded.  The  bishops  were 
too  busy  dining  with  the  emperor  and  intriguing 
with  prime  ministers  to  spend  their  time  in  serving 
tables.  The  new  bishop,  however,  kept  his  own 
books.  He  demanded  a  clean  balance-sheet  at  regu- 
lar intervals,  and  the  surplusage  of  receipts  ceased 
to  be  a  perquisite  of  the  officers,  and  was  devoted  to 
the  building  of  hospitals  and  the  needs  of  the  poor. 
A  very  large  source  of  income  was  thus  cut  off 


92  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

from  the  stewards  and  custodians  of  the  Church 
and  palace.  He  urged  upon  laymen  the  obligation 
of  attendance  upon  Church  service,  insisting  that 
those  whose  business  kept  them  employed  during 
the  day  should  come  at  night  and  exercise  them- 
selves in  prayer  and  devotion.  In  order  that  these 
latter  might  be  accommodated,  he  ordered  the 
churches  opened  in  the  evening,  and  demanded  ex- 
tra services  of  the  clergy.  Moreover,  he  planned 
by  these  evening  services  to  counteract  the  popular 
methods  of  the  Arians,  and  so  he  required  this  ex- 
tra attention  and  preparation  on  the  part  of  the 
priests.  The  Arians  were  suggestively  modern  in 
their  methods.  Their  churches  were  outside  the 
city  limits;  but  on  Saturday  and  on  Sunday  they 
came  inside  the  gates  and  marched  in  procession 
from  street  to  street,  singing  hymns  written  for  the 
occasion ;  one  company  of  singers  responding  to  the 
other.  This  they  did  all  Saturday  night  and  through 
the  next  day.  They  needed  only  a  drum  and  tam- 
bourine to  become  accredited  pioneers  of  another 
picturesque  movement  which  has  converted  one 
branch  of  Christianity  into  a  military  camp.  The 
Salvation  Army  was  evidently  not  the  first  of  the 
kind  in  the  field. 

The  clergy  of  Constantinople  resented  these  new 


The  Man.  93 

impositions,  and  rebelled  against  the  bishop's  or- 
ders. He  promptly  suspended  the  ringleaders.  The 
revolt  spread,  and  the  rebels  increased.  He  denied 
them  the  Eucharist.  In  less  than  six  months  the 
entire  establishment  was  seething  with  unrest  and 
insubordination.  Moreover,  it  was  not  possible  that 
he  escape  collision  with  those  who  were  higher  up. 
Eutropius,  the  prime  minister,  had  secured  his  ap- 
pointment to  the  see,  and  would  gladly  have  patron- 
ized him.  But  Chrysostom  did  not  seem  to  appre- 
ciate to  the  full  his  obligation,  and  Eutropius  re- 
ceived his  share  of  rebuke  and  sarcasm.  Here  was 
indeed  a  target  worthy  of  the  bishop's  shafts.  Only 
a  few  years  before,  this  same  Eutropius  had  in- 
veigled the  emperor  into  marrying  Eudoxia  on  the 
very  day  appointed  for  his  marriage  with  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  praetorian  prefect,  Rufinus,  It  was  a  mas- 
ter-stroke of  intrigue  and  court  politics.  He  had 
succeeded  to  the  place  of  chief  adviser  to  the  em- 
peror when  Rufinus  was  murdered.  He  had  also 
succeeded  to  the  avarice  and  cruelty  of  Rufinus. 
He  was  deformed,  decrepit,  and  despised.  His  early 
years  had  been  spent  in  unspeakable  infamy,  but 
now  he  had  attained  to  the  rank  of  patrician,  and 
as  a  "strange  and  inexplicable  prodigy,"  according 
to  Gibbon,  he  was  even  made  consul,  and  was  ena- 


94  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

bled  to  grasp  the  riches  of  the  empire  and  to  barter 
the  provinces  of  the  world.  So  open  was  he  in  his 
corruption  and  graft  that  he  placed  a  tablet  in  his 
antechamber  on  which  was  regularly  displayed  the 
market  price  of  the  several  provinces  and  the  ad- 
vantages that  would  accrue  from  their  purchase  by 
the  ambitious  place-seeker. 

It  was  when  this  all-powerful  favorite  robbed 
the  Churches  of  the  right  of  sanctuary,  and  sent  his 
officers  to  the  very  altars  to  apprehend  those  who 
had  fled  from  his  tyranny, — it  was  then  that  the 
watchful  bishop  was  aroused  and  prepared  himself 
for  a  death-grapple.  Eutropius  might  farm  the 
taxes  of  the  empire,  and  put  its  provinces  into  the 
market,  and  the  sky  was  serene,  but  when  he  touched 
the  ancient  and  the  inviolable  right  of  sanctuary, 
one  of  the  brightest  jewels  in  the  crown  of  the 
Church,  it  began  to  thunder. 

It  was  this  conflict  which  gave  Chrysostom  the 
opportunity  to  prove  the  splendid  greatness  of  his 
character,  the  matchless  power  of  his  speech.  Not 
long  after  his  attack  upon  the  Church,  the  sun  of 
Eutropius  went  down  at  noonday.  Tribigald,  the 
chief  of  an  important  family  of  the  Ostrogoths, 
came  to  the  city  to  seek  preferment.  He  was  con- 
temptuously snubbed.    The  Barbarian  in  his  blood 


The  Man.  95 

awoke  to  life  and  he  defied  the  throne.  He  defeated 
the  force  sent  to  punish  him,  advanced  upon  the 
city,  and  Gainas,  the  master  of  the  home  troops,  re- 
fused to  meet  him  unless  Eutropius  were  humbled. 
In  the  meantime  the  gods  were  making  mad  the 
object  of  their  proposed  destruction.  Eutropius 
broke  with  the  empress.  He  reminded  her  that  he 
had  lifted  her  to  the  purple,  and  boasted  that  he 
could  just  as  easily  drag  her  down.  Eudoxia  re- 
ported this  amazing  effrontery  to  the  emperor.  It 
was  more  than  Arcadius  even  could  tolerate,  and 
Eutropius  was  driven  from  the  palace  in  disgrace. 
The  people  had  waited  for  this.  Long  years  of 
cruelty  and  tyranny  were  to  be  accounted  for,  and 
the  vengeful  thousands  gathered  in  the  streets 
thirsting  for  the  blood  of  the  outlawed  favorite.  At 
bay,  deserted,  powerless,  he  fled  to  the  church,  and, 
laying  hold  upon  the  altars,  he  claimed  the  very 
asylum  he  had  denied  to  others.  It  was  a  critical 
moment.  The  soldiers  had  followed  him  into  the 
church.  The  clash  of  their  arms  could  be  heard 
by  the  trembling  suppliant  in  the  sacristy,  whither 
he  had  been  led  by  Chrysostom.  Back  of  the  sol- 
diers were  the  people.  The  whole  city  was  aroused 
and  determined.  But  the  bishop  was  equal  to  the 
occasion.    He  had  resisted  the  removal  of  the  right 


96  Chrysostom:  The  Orator. 

of  sanctuary;  had  stubbornly  contended  that  the 
civil  power  could  not  thus  rob  the  Church  of  that 
which  belonged  to  it  inherently,  and  now,  taking  his 
stand  upon  this  principle,  he  confronted  the  sol- 
diers and  refused  to  surrender  Eutropius.  It  was 
not  only  the  grace  of  mercy  but  the  fearlessness  of 
consistency.  He  had  never  yielded  to  Eutropius  in 
his  attempt  to  violate  the  sanctuary  by  the  seizure 
of  other  refugees;  he  would  not  now  yield  to  the 
soldiers  in  the  attempt  to  seize  Eutropius  when  he 
came  a  refugee.  The  same  inviolable  principle 
which  defied  Eutropius  now  defended  him.  ''Over 
my  body,"  he  quietly  said  to  the  soldiers,  and  none 
there  so  insolent,  so  reckless  as  to  accept  the  chal- 
lenge. He  demanded  finally  to  see  the  emperor. 
Leaving  Eutropius  to  the  shelter  of  the  altar,  they 
marched  Chrysostom  in  armed  procession  to  the 
palace.  The  emperor  pleaded  the  inviolability  of 
the  laws  which  Eutropius  had  insulted;  the  bishop 
argued  the  superiority  of  the  divine  laws  over  the 
human  and  the  absolute  authority  of  the  Church. 
The  emperor  yielded,  and  not  only  did  he  grant 
pardon  to  the  guilty  officer,  but,  under  the  spell  of 
the  bishop,  he  begged  the  culprit's  life  of  the  sol- 
diers with  tears  and  as  a  personal  favor. 

And  then  on  the  next  day  came  a  fitting  climax 


The  Man.  97 

to  this  stirring  drama.  It  was  Sunday.  The 
church  was  thronged.  The  furious  crowd  surged 
from  vestibule  to  altar.  The  assembly  was  tense 
with  excitement.  What  would  be  the  message  of 
this  fearless  bishop  who  had  defied  the  emperor, 
thwarted  the  soldiers,  and  faced  the  frenzy  of  an 
angry  mob?  The  preacher  was  in  his  place;  the 
opening  services  had  been  concluded.  Then  sud- 
denly the  curtain  was  drawn  aside  and  there,  pros- 
trate on  the  floor,  his  gray  hair  mingled  with  the 
dust,  his  wrinkled  old  face  haggard  with  woeful 
fear,  his  hand  grasping  one  of  the  marble  columns 
of  the  holy  table,  was  Eutropius,^  yesterday  the  mas- 
ter of  the  empire  and  the  dread  of  the  city ;  and  as 
the  people  caught  their  breath,  the  preacher  spoke*. 
"  'Vanity  of  vanities.  All  is  Vanity.'  It  is  always 
seasonable  to  utter  this,  but  more  especially  at  the 
present  timie.  Where  are  now  the  brilliant  stir- 
roundings  of  thy  consulship  ?  Where  are  the  gleam- 
ing torches?  Where  is  the  dancing,  and  the  noise 
of  the  dancer's  feet,  and  the  banquets  and  the  fes- 
tivals ?  Where  are  the  garlands  and  the  curtains  of 
the  theater?  Where  is  the  applause  that  greeted 
thee  in  the  city?  Where  the  acclamations  in  the 
Hippodrome  and  the  flatteries  of  spectators  ?  They 
are  gone, — all  gone.  A  wind  has  blown  upon  the 
7 


98  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

tree,  stripped  it  of  its  leaves,  and  torn  it  up  by  the 
very  roots.  Where  now  are  your  feigned  friends? 
Where  are  your  drinking  parties  and  your  suppers  ? 
.  .  .  Where  are  they  who  courted  your 
power,  and  did  and  said  everything  to  win  your 
favor?  They  were  visions  of  the  night,  dreams 
which  vanish  at  dawn;  they  were  spring  flowers 
that  wither  when  the  spring  is  past;  they  were  a 
shadow  which  has  passed  away."  Then,  turning 
to  the  awe-struck  people,  he  said :  "How  terrible  is 
the  altar  now,  for  lo !  it  holds  the  lion  chained !" 

Splendid  was  the  triumph  of  the  bishop  and 
magnificent  was  the  trophy  thus  won  for  the 
Church.  ''The  king  is  great  in  crown  and  purple; 
but  the  king  is  still  greater  with  the  bound  Bar- 
barian kneeling  at  his  feet."  ''For  this,"  he  de- 
clares, "is  more  glorious  than  any  kind  of  trophy; 
this  is  a  brilliant  victory;  this  puts  both  Gentile 
and  Jew  to  shame;  this  displays  the  bright  aspect 
of  the  Church  in  that,  having  received  her  enemy 
as  a  captive,  she  spares  him,  and  when  all  have  de- 
spised him  in  his  desolation,  she  alone,  like  an  affec- 
tionate mother,  has  concealed  him  under  her  cloak, 
opposing  both  the  wrath  of  the  king  and  the  rage 
of  the  people." 

The  dwarfed,  diminutive  patriarch  was  born  for 


Tut  Man.  99 

the  tempest.  He  met  and  conquered  its  raging  fury. 
He  was  risking  his  own  life  for  the  sake  of  his 
enemy.  But  the  king  was  his  puppet  and  the  peo- 
ple as  wax  in  his  hands,  and  the  day  was  saved. 

But  another  storm  was  at  hand,  more  portentous 
than  the  last.  Gainas  the  Goth,  having  attained  his 
ends  in  the  overthrow  of  Eutropius,  brought  his 
army  to  Constantinople  and  proceeded  to  dictate 
further  to  the  emperor.  Among  other  demands  he 
insisted  that  a  church  be  assigned  the  Arians  within 
the  city.  The  emperor  laid  the  matter  before  the 
archbishop,  suggesting  that  a  man  of  such  power 
as  Gainas  must  be  propitiated.  But  this  was  not 
the  spirit  of  Chrysostom,  and  he  suggested  the  ad- 
visability of  a  discussion  of  the  matter  at  court. 
Gainas  rashly  accepted  the  challenge.  The  meeting 
was  appointed,  and  the  Goth  was  hopelessly 
silenced  by  the  keen  logic  and  overwhelming  elo- 
quence of  his  unrivaled  antagonist.  It  was  more 
than  defeat ;  it  was  paralysis.  Not  only  was  Gainas 
thwarted  in  his  purpose,  but  the  fearlessness  of 
Chrysostom  and  the  blunt  reminder  of  the  miserable 
state  in  which  he  had  entered  the  empire,  seems  to 
have  broken  the  spirit  of  the  great  Goth.  He  was 
never  himself  again.  He  seemed  henceforth  un- 
der a  powerful  spell  that  blunted  his  faculties  and 


loo  Chrysostom:  The;  Orator. 

* 

paralyzed  his  will.  He  attempted  to  sack  the  city, 
but  his  soldiers  were  lukewarm.  He  left  the  city, 
ordering  his  officers  to  hold  their  positions  until 
he  came  again  with  re-enforcements.  But  Constan- 
tinople was  not  Rome.  The  enemy,  even  within  the 
walls,  was  not  always  the  enemy  triumphant.  The 
people  resented  the  presence  and  the  insolence  of 
the  foreign  legions ;  the  same  people  that  had 
sought  the  blood  of  Eutropius  but  had  cowered  be- 
fore the  words  of  Chrysostom.  The  gates  were 
closed,  and  then  the  world  saw  a  strange  sight:  an 
army  that  had  broken  into  a  city  and  had  been 
turned  loose  upon  a  people,  trapped  by  the  people 
in  the  very  streets  they  came  to  loot,  and  crushed. 
Seven  thousand  of  the  dreaded  Barbarian  soldiers 
fled  like  Eutropius  to  the  Greek  Church  for  sanc- 
tuary. But  now  there  was  no  bishop  to  plead,  no 
magic  voice  to  quiet  the  storm,  and  they  were  merci- 
lessly slaughtered  before  the  very  horns  of  the  altar. 
According  to  old  historians,  the  outlawed  Gaiijas 
now  gathered  his  armies  and  carried  desolation  into 
the  provinces  of  the  empire.  It  was  necessary  to 
send  an  embassy  to  treat  with  him,  but  not  an  offi- 
cer of  the  court  could  be  found  to  dare  the  hazard- 
ous venture.  Once  more  the  bishop  steps  to  the 
front.     He  undertakes  the  mission,  though,  of  all 


ThK  Man.  ioi 

the  city,  he  is  the  most  hated  and  the  most  feared 
by  the  rebel.  He  was  received  with  the  respect  due 
to  his  great  courage,  and  a  peace  was  patched  up. 
It  does  not  seem  to  have  lasted  long.  Gainas  was 
soon  in  the  field  again.  But  his  good  fortune  was 
gone,  and  in  a  few  days  his  lifeless  head  was  sent 
into  the  city  as  a  special  gift  from  Uldin,  King  of 
the  Huns. 

Over  the  first  gate  of  the  enchanted  palace  in 
Spenser's  ''Faerie  Queene''  was  the  inscription,  "Be 
bold."  Over  the  second  gate  was  written,  ''Be 
bold.  Be  bold,  and  ever  more  be  bold."  Over  the 
third  gate  appeared  the  words,  "Be  not  too  bold." 
Chrysostom  has  passed  the  first  gate  and  the  sec- 
ond, now  the  third  is  at  hand.  He  has  met  the  chief 
chamberlain  and  the  M agister  Militiim,  and  he  has 
conquered.  Two  Richmonds  has  he  slain  already, 
but  a' third  is  in  the  field.  He  has  had  his  Auster- 
litz  and  his  Jena,  but  Wellington  is  waiting  for  him 
on  the  heights  of  St.  Jean,  and  Bliicher  is  coming 
from  Ligny. 

Eudoxia,  the  empress,  was  the  daughter  of 
Bauto,  a  general  of  the  Franks.  She  was  as 
haughty  as  she  was  beautiful.  She  was  ambitious, 
artful,  relentless.  Like  Eutropius,  she,  too,  was 
ready  to  make  an  ally  of  the  great  preacher.     Her 


I02  Chrysostom  :  Th^  Orator. 

gifts  to  the  Church  were  magnificent;  her  interest 
in  the  work  of  the  parish  beautiful  to  contemplate. 
She  even  graced  by  her  royal  person,  unveiled  and 
barefooted,  a  procession  in  honor  of  certain  saintly 
relics.  The  enthusiastic  Chrysostom  went  into 
ecstasies  over  the  edifying  spectacle.  But  he  did  not 
modify  his  crusade  against  the  vanity,  vice,  and 
luxury  enthroned  in  high  places.  The  empress 
knew  that  the  people  did  not  hesitate  to  apply  his 
denunciations  to  herself.  She  had  a  lurking  sus- 
picion that  the  preacher  was  entirely  willing  that 
they  be  thus  applied.  Her  gathering  wrath  was 
fostered  by  the  three  intriguing  widows  of  notorious 
celebrity,  Engraphin,  Marcia,  and  Castricia.  These 
last  had  all  the  reasons  of  the  empress  to  hate 
the  preacher,  v/ith  the  added  insult  that  he  pub- 
licly reminded  them  of  their  age  and  ugliness.  He 
even  threatened  to  drive  from  the  Lord's  table  these 
gaudy  Jezebels,  with  their  trinkets,  their  false  hair, 
and  their  paste. 

Poor,  simple-minded  bishop,  he  does  not  realize 
that  now,  at  last,  he  is  beginning  to  handle  real 
dynamite.  John  the  Baptist  had  his  Herodias,  John 
Knox  his  Mary  of  Scotland,  and  John  Chrysostom 
his  Eudoxia.  He  has  walked  safe  and  invulnerable 
among  men  antagonized,  he  now  is  to  have  his  first 
experience  with  a  woman  scorned. 


Th^  Man.  103 

In  January,  401,  he  was  called  out  of  the  city  by 
the  clergy  of  Ephesus  to  investigate  certain  charges 
made  against  Antoninus,  Bishop  of  Ephesus.     He 
convoked  a  synod,   deposed  six  bishops   who  had 
been  convicted  of  buying  their  offices,  and  one  ad- 
venturer who  had  secured  his  consecration  by  po- 
litical influence.     In  his  absence  the  see  of  Con- 
stantinoplewas  left  in  the  hands  of  Severian,  Bishop 
of  Gabala.    This  official  used  his  position  to  under- 
mine the  popularity  of  Chrysostom  and  to  ingratiate 
himself  into  the  favor  of  the  court.    The  bishop  re- 
turned to  find  a  court  cabal  formed  against  him, 
originated  by  the  adroit  Severian,  and  headed  by 
the  ladies  of  the  palace.    With  his  usual  impetuosity 
and  fearlessness  he  opened  the  attack.    He  ordered 
Severian  to  leave  the  city.     He  publicly  spoke  of 
him  and  of  others  who  were  in  league  with  him  as 
"priests  that  eat  at  Jezebel's  table."     He  broke  off 
all  communication  with  the  empress.     This  ruth- 
less woman  accepted  the  challenge  and  the  battle 
royal  was  on. 

The  imperial  strategist  soon  found  a  weapon  at 

hand. 

"  How  oft  the  sight  of  means  to  do  ill  deeds 
Makes  deeds  ill  done !     Hadst  thou  not  been  by, 
A  fellow  by  the  hand  of  Nature  marked, 
Quoted  and  signed  to  do  a  deed  of  shame. 
The  murder  had  not  come  into  my  mind." 


104  Chrysostom:  The:  Oil'VTor. 

Theophilus  of  Alexandria  had  never  forgotten 
the  heavy  hand  of  Eutropius  which  had  forced  him 
to  consecrate  Chrysostom,  and  had  never  forgiven 
Chrysostom  for  taking  the  place  he  had  coveted 
for  one  of  his  own  henchmen.  He  had  been  but 
biding  his  time.  He  was  now  about  to  have  his 
revenge. 

In  order  to  get  the  direction  of  the  current,  we 
must  go  up-stream  a  few  years.  About  the  middle 
of  the  second  century  Titus  Flavins  Clement  was 
born.  Athens  the  cultured,  and  Alexandria  the  cos- 
mopolitan, both  claim  to  be  his  birthplace.  His  life-, 
work,  however,  was  done  in  the  latter  city.  He  is 
the  father  of  Greek  theology.  He  was  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  famous  School  of  Alexandria.  The 
school  was  organized  for  the  defense  of  Christian- 
ity. The  whole  system  of  Greek  philosophy  was 
laid  under  tribute.  The  Scriptures  were  freely  al- 
legorized, and  the  traditions  of  the  Church  were 
explained  in  a  mystical  sense.  Clement  makes  large 
use  of  classic  literature.  He  refers  to  Euripides  as 
entertaining  a  noble  conception  of  God. 

"  Tell  me  what  I  am  to  conceive  God  to  be, 
Who  sees  all  things  and  is  Himself  unseen." 

He  holds  that  Cleanthes  ''received  scintillations 
of  the  Divine  Word."    We  are  ready  to  sympathize 


^nt  Man.  105 

with  this  view  when  we  note  the  "Hymn  to  Jupi- 
ter" by  this  poet. 

"  But  ah,  great  Jove !  by  whom  all  good  is  given, 
Dweller  with  lightnings  and  the  cloud  of  heaven, 
Save  from  their  dreadful  error  lost  mankind, — 
Father,  disperse  these  shadows  of  the  mind; 
Give  them  Thy  pure  and  righteous  law  to  know, 
Wherewith  Thy  justice  governs  all  below. 
More  blest  nor  men  nor  heavenly  powers  can  be 
Than  when  their  songs  are  of  Thy  law  and  Thee." 

If  this  is  not  Christianity,  it  is  as  good  Deism  as 
Alexander  Pope  or  Matthew  Arnold  has  written. 
Clement  found,  or  claimed  to  find,  the  word  of 
truth  in  Plato.  He  taught  that  philosophy  was  the 
schoolmaster  among  the  Greeks,  as  the  law  was 
among  the  Hebrews,  to  bring  them  to  Christ,  and 
that  this  philosophy  was  the  direct  gift  of  God. 

Clement  was  driven  from  Alexandria  in  A.  D. 
202,  and  his  place  was  taken  by  his  illustrious  disci- 
ple, Origen.  This  new  leader  was  not  yet  eighteen 
years  old,  but  he  was  called  to  the  front  by  common 
consent,  and  at  once  began  to  develop  the  system 
of  his  master.  Even  in  boyhood,  according  to  his 
biographers,  Origen  was  not  satisfied  with  the  plain 
and  obvious  meaning  of  the  Scriptures.  In  later 
years  he  became  the  great  allegorist  of  the  Church. 
We  do  not  here  enter  at  large  into  a  discussion  of 


io6  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

his  creed.  Only  a  few  salient  views  need  to  be  men- 
tioned. 

He  held  that  all  Scripture  was  susceptible  of  a 
threefold  interpretation :  First,  the  plain  historical 
teaching ;  second,  the  moral  lesson ;  third,  the  mys- 
tical spiritual  sense.  He  held  that  the  spirit,  or 
''reasonable  soul  of  man,"  is  pre-existent ;  that  it 
committed  sin  before  time  was,  and  was  clothed  in 
human  flesh  as  a  punishment.  That  the  Logos,  or 
the  self-unfolding  of  God,  united  itself  with  an  un- 
fallen  spirit  and  was  made  known  as  Jesus.  That 
even  as  the  union  of  the  soul  and  body  glorifies  the 
body,  so  the  union  of  the  Logos  and  the  sinless 
human  soul  glorified  the  soul,  and  thus  Jesus  was 
altogether  Divine.  He  believed  in  the  final  restora- 
tion of  men  and  evil  angels.  Indeed,  he  antedated 
by  many  generations  the  sudden,  unexpected  re- 
pentance of  Satan  in  "Paradise  Lost"  when  the 
arch-plotter  repines  in  sonorous  antithesis  and 
stately  heroics ;  or  the  inimitable  outbreak  of  sym- 
pathy in  which  genial  Bobby  Burns  expresses  a  hope 
that  his  Satanic  Majesty  "wad  tak  a  thought  and 
men' !" 

This  hope  he  based  upon  the  theory  that  there 
is  an  indestructible  union  between  God  and  all  spir- 
itual essence.    He  reaches  the  same  conclusion  from 


Thk  Man.  107 

a  belief  in  the  indestructible  freedom  of  the  will; 
hence  the  power  forever  possessed  by  the  soul  to 
return  to  God.  Such  were  some  of  the  peculiar 
views  of  Origen.  No  writer  of  antiquity  made  a 
profounder  impression  on  human  thought  than  he. 
Two  hundred  years  after  his  death  one-half  the 
sermons  preached  were  takSn  from  his  works.  Even 
Jerome,  the  greatest  scholar  and  keenest  thinker  of 
his  times,  did  not  scruple  to  borrow  the  best  part 
of  his  Commentaries  from  this  old  master. 

Now,  Theophilus  had  once  been  a  great  admirer 
of  Origen.  He  had  been  greatly  exercised  over  the 
condition  of  the  Sketic  monks,  who,  in  their  hos- 
tility to  Origen,  were  ready  to  accept  literally  the 
Scripture  expressions  about  the  hands  and  the  feet 
of  God.  Origenism  was  fashionable,  it  was  select, 
and  so  Theophilus  was  an  Origenian.  But  Epipha- 
nius,  ''the  hammer  of  heretics,"  had  begun  his 
furious  crusade  against  these  tenets.  Jerome,  "al- 
ways ready  to  sacrifice  a  friend  to  an  opinion,"  had 
begun  to  impale  John  of  Jerusalem  because  of  his 
warm  support  of  Origen.  The  tide  had  turned. 
Then  Theophilus,  the  Amphallax,  the  Trimmer, 
seeing  the  popular  trend,  wheeled  in  his  tracks  and 
became  a  rabid  opponent  of  this  sinister  heresy. 

In  order  to  prove  his  zeal,  he  attacked  the  four 


io8  Chrysostom  :  The  Orator. 

"Tall  Brothers"  of  Nitria.  These  men  were  monks 
who  had  been  visiting  the  city,  and  refused  to  stay 
because  of  the  irregularities  in  the  bishop's  palace. 
Moreover,  they  declined  to  become  palace  witnesses 
against  Isidore,  whom  Theophilus  was  seeking 
to  destroy.  So  they  were  excommunicated, 
their  refuge  in  the  desert  sought  out  and 
attacked  and  the  monks  driven  from  their 
caves  with  great  fury.  From  Nitria  these 
monks  went  to  Jerusalem,  then  finally  to  Constan- 
tinople. Of  course  they  appealed  to  Chrysostom. 
He  heard  them  patiently,  assigned  them  quarters 
near  the  church,  then  wrote  Theophilus  seeking  to 
make  peace.  The  reply  of  Theophilus  was  tart  and 
offensive, — a  suggestion  to  the  bishop  of  Constan- 
tinople that  he  was  exceeding  his  authority;  that 
the  bishop  of  Egypt  was  not  in  the  jurisdiction  of 
another  ecclesiastic  seventy-five  days'  journey  away; 
that  the  sooner  Chrysostom  learned  these  things  the 
better,  etc. 

Then  the  persecuted  monks  appealed  to  the  em- 
peror. This  was  a  different  matter,  and  Theophilus 
was  ordered  to  report  at  Constantinople.  He  came, 
not  alone,  as  the  emperor  had  stipulated,  but  with 
twenty-eight  of  his  dependent  bishops,  and  attended 
by  a  bodyguard  of  Alexandrian  sailors.     He  came, 


The:  Man.  109 

not  as  accused,  but  as  accuser;  not,  as  was  later 
shown,  to  stand  trial  for  his  own  misdeeds,  but  to 
put  on  trial  for  heresy  the  great  bishop,  of  Con- 
stantinople. With  great  pomp  the  landing  at  the 
port  of  Constantinople  was  made,  and  instead  of 
proceeding  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  bishop  as 
might  have  been  expected,  without  even  acknowl- 
edging the  courteous  preparation  which  had  been 
made  for  his  entertainment,  Theophilus  marched 
directly  to  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  took  up  his  abode 
in  one  of  the  emperor's  houses,  and  began  at  once 
to  plot  against  Chrysostom. 

It  is  impossible  to  explain  the  attitude  of  Chrys- 
ostom during  the  days  that  followed.  The  lion  had 
suddenly  become  a  lamb.  The  fearless  defender  of 
Eutropius,  the  relentless  antagonist  of  the  Gothic 
Gainas,  seemed  utterly  helpless  or  strangly  uncon- 
cerned in  the  presence  of  Theophilus.  He  never 
seemed  to  understand  treachery.  He  could  oppose 
might  with  might  and  thunder  his  defiance  in  the 
face  of  an  open  foe,  but  a  situation  that  would  have 
steeled  the  nerve  of  Ambrose  and  stirred  Jerome  to 
fury,  seems  to  have  made  no  impression  upon  John 
Chrysostom;  at  any  rate,  he  has  so  skillfully  con- 
cealed his  emotions  that  the  world  has  been  won- 
dering ever  since.    He  even  disobeyed  the  order  of 


no  Chrysostom:  Thi^  Orator. 

the  emperor  that  he  should  at  once  proceed  with 
the  charge  against  Theophilus;  he  left  unguarded 
every  avenue  of  attack  and  contented  himself  with 
a  few  mild  and  obliging  messages  to  the  ecclesias- 
tical traitor  who  was  bending  every  energy  to  com- 
pass his  downfall. 

And  then  this  foreign  bishop,  called  to  the  court 
to  answer  for  crime,  took  the  astounding  step  of  or- 
ganizing a  council  by  which  to  try  Chrysostom  for 
heresy  and  misconduct.  This  council  was  made  up 
of  the  bishops  he  had  brought  with  him,  together 
with  a  few  gathered  from  the  outlying  provinces. 
Before  this  farcical  body  Chrysostom  was  sum- 
moned to  appear.  Twenty-nine  specifications  made 
up  the  preposterous  indictment.  Only  four  of  them 
were  found  worthy  of  consideration.  These  were: 
I.  That  Chrysostom  had  disgraced  and  ejected  John 
the  Deacon  for  no  other  reason  than  that  the  latter 
had  beaten  his  own  servant,  Eulalius ;  2.  That  by 
his  order  one  John,  a  monk,  had  been  beaten  and 
hurried  away  and  haled  and  treated  like  a  madman, 
being  loaded  with  irons ;  3.  That  calling  a  convoca- 
tion of  his  clergy,  he  had  indicted  three  of  his  dea- 
cons and  had  charged  them  with  stealing  the  cloak 
that  he  used  to  wear  about  his  shoulders ;  4.  That 
the  revenues  of  the  Church  were  disposed  of,  and 


The  Man.  in 

no  man  knew  what  became  of  them.  Seventeen 
other  charges  were  added  to  these  later  on,  in  a  for- 
lorn hope  that  something  might  be  found  upon 
which  a  sentence  could  be  based.  These  new 
charges  were  no  better  than  the  old  ones:  that  he 
affirmed  the  Church  to  be  filled  with  furies ;  that  he 
had  exclaimed  in  the  Church,  "I  am  desperately  in 
love,"  etc. 

Twelve  times  did  this  synod  assemble.  Twelve 
times  did  it  summon  Chrysostom  to  appear  before 
its  bar.  He  declined  to  be  a  party  to  such  a  ridicu- 
lous game.  Then  by  unanimous  vote  the  bishop 
was  condemned  and  the  emperor  petitioned  to  expel 
him.  Nothing  was  too  absurd  for  Arcadius,  and  he 
ratified  the  monstrous  finding.  But  the  people 
raged.  The  gates  of  St.  Sophia  were  guarded  day 
and  night  by  vigilant  sentinels  appointed  by  the  citi- 
zens ;  and  it  needed  but  a  word  from  the  bishop  to 
have  swept  Theophilus  and  his  synod  into  the  Bos- 
porus and  to  have  shaken  the  palace  of  the  em- 
peror. But  this  word  was  unspoken.  For  the  sake 
of  the  Church  the  bishop  held  his  peace.  But  his 
heart  was  sore.  The  iron  had  entered  his  soul.  To 
his  friends  he  said :  "Many  are  the  billows  and  ter- 
rible the  storms  that  threaten  us;  but  we  fear  not 
to  be  overwhelmed,  for  we  stand  upon  the  Rock. 


112  Chrysostom:  Thk  Orator. 

Tell  me,  what  is  it  we  fear?  Death?  'To  me  to 
live  is  Christ ;  to  die  is  gain !'  Or  exile  ?  The  earth 
is  the  Lord's  and  the  fullness  thereof.  Or  confisca- 
tion of  goods  ?  We  brought  nothing  into  this  world 
and  it  is  certain  we  can  carry  nothing  out.  I  be- 
seech you  to  be  of  good  courage.  No  man  can  sep- 
arate us,  for  that  which  God  hath  joined  together 
no  man  can  put  asunder.  To-morrow  I  shall  go 
out  with  you  in  the  litany ;  for  where  you  are  there 
I  am.  Though  locally  separated,  we  are  in  spirit 
united ;  we  are  one  body." 

The  astounded  bishops  of  his  own  see  gathered 
in  the  palace.  They  clamored  for  war.  They 
pointed  out  the  ease  with  which  he  could  overthrow 
his  enemies,  and  triumph  over  their  designs.  He 
said:  "I  am  ready  to  be  offered  up,  and  the  time 
of  my  departure  is  at  hand.  Am  I  better  than  the 
patriarchs  that  I  should  live  forever?  The  doctrine 
of  Christ  did  not  begin  with  me;  it  shall  not  die 
with  me.  Moses  died,  but  Joshua  succeeded  him. 
Saul  died,  but  David  was  anointed  in  his  stead. 
Paul  was  beheaded,  but  he  left  Timothy  and  Apollos 
and  hosts  of  others  to  take  his  place."  The  splendid 
old  veteran  had  received  his  death-blow,  but  he 
would  hide  the  wound.  Heart-broken  himself,  he 
would  comfort  those  who  remained  and  bequeath  a 


Th^  Man.  113 

double  portion  of  his  spirit  to  the  smitten  and  be- 
reaved Church.  And  so,  on  the  third  day  after  the 
emperor's  order,  he  preached  a  sermon  in  which  he 
sought  to  allay  the  excitement  of  the  people,  then 
slipped  quietly  out  of  the  church  and  surrendered 
himself  to  the  soldiers ;  and  when>  the  night  came 
the  great  city  was  without  a  bishop,  the  wild  mob 
was  without  a  master,  the  mighty  preacher  had  met 
his  pitiless  foe,  and  had  suffered  his  first  defeat. 


REPUDIATION. 

It  was  a  strange  thing.  The  great  bishop  torn 
from  the  people  who  idohzed  him,  condemned  by  an 
inferior  who  had  come  to  answer  charges  pre- 
ferred against  himself,  and  banished  by  an  emperor 
who  had  stoutly  admonished  him  for  not  apprehend- 
ing this  alien,  whose  crimes  had  brought  him  as  an 
accused  criminal  to  the  city  and  whose  effrontery 
had  now  dethroned  his  lawful  judge.  Chrysostom 
was  put  on  shipboard  and  conveyed  by  night  to 
Hieron,  a  seaport  of  the  Euxine,  a  port  made  fa- 
mous as  the  place  where  the  Argonauts  offered 
sacrifices  on  their  return  from  Colchis. 

Then  the  city  rose  in  wrath.  The  churches  were 
closed,  the  streets  were  filled  with  a  surging,  threat- 
ening mob.  To  add  to  the  confusion,  there  came  a 
great  earthquake  on  the  night  following  the  ban- 
ishment. Eudoxia,  crazed  with  fear,  fell  on  her 
knees  before  the  emperor,  beseeching  him  to  recall 
Chrysostom,  To  her  superstitious  mind  the  earth- 
quake was  a  solemn  portent.  It  meant  the  sam^  to 
the  people.  God  was  signifying  his  displeasure  at 
114 


The:  Man.  115 

the  banishment  of  His  servant.  So  letters  were 
sent  to  the  banished  bishop  containing  the  most  ab- 
ject apologies  and  the  most  urgent  persuasions  to 
return.  *Xet  not  your  reverence  imagine,"  wrote 
the  versatile  Eudoxia,  ''that  I  was  cognizant  of  what 
had  been  done.  I  am  guiltless  of  thy  blood.  I  re- 
member the  baptism  of  my  children  at  thy  hands." 
Perhaps  she  really  thought  she  was  sincere.  Per- 
haps she  was  sincere  while  the  acrid  dust  from  the 
earthquake  hung  low  and  suggestive  along  the  dis- 
tant hills. 

The  letter  of  the  empress  and  the  persuasion  of 
the  emperor  were  successful.  The  bishop  returned. 
A  great  concourse  of  ships  went  out  to  meet  him. 
The  sea  was  ablaze  with  lights,  and  the  city  re- 
sounded with  acclamations  of  welcome.  He  refused 
at  first  to  enter  the  city  until  he  should  be  formally 
cleared  by  a  special  council  of  the  charges  on  ac- 
count of  which  he  had  been  banished.  The  empe- 
ror was  entirely  willing  to  call  such  a  council.  But 
matters  would  not  wait.  The  people  could  not  be 
argued  with;  they  were  growing  dangerous.  The 
throne  was  in  peril.  Another  day  might  mean 
revolution.  Through  the  gates,  therefore,  he  came, 
seated  on  the  episcopal  chair  and  borne  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  exultant  people,  while  Theophilus, 


ii6  Chrysostoai:  The:  Orator. 

realizing  the  whirlwind  he  had  raised,  took  ship 
suddenly  for  Alexandria  to  continue  his  plots  at  a 
safe  distance  against  the  man  whose  ruin  he  had 
resolved. 

But  the  truce  was  of  short  duration.  A  greater 
storm  was  coming.  Scarcely  two  months  had 
passed  and  the  city  was  once  more  seething  with 
disorder  and  the  warring  of  factions.  Eudoxia  was 
still  the  evil  genius  of  the  hour.  Already  the  real 
mistress  of  the  Eastern  World,  she  aspired  to  even 
higher  honors.  In  the  great  square  in  front  of  St. 
Sophia  she  erected  a  porphyry  column.  On  this 
she  placed  a  silver  image  of  herself,  and  with  pagan 
ceremony  and  unseemly  tumult  this  was  uncovered 
in  September,  403.  The  Church  services  were  dis- 
turbed by  the  music  and  the  dancing,  and  Chrys- 
ostom  was  disgusted  and  indignant  at  the  pro- 
nounced heathenism  of  the  display,  and  he  com- 
plained forthwith  to  the  city  prefect.  This  was  not 
diplomacy.  The  prefect  was  not  his  friend.  There 
was  a  slight  difference  in  religious  belief,  enough  at 
any  rate  to  keep  their  relations  somewhat  strained. 
The  prefect  reported  the  complaint  of  the  bishop  to 
the  empress  with  embellishments.  The  gauge  of 
battle  was  again  thrown  down,  and  Eudoxia  threat- 
ened to  call  the  preacher  to  stern  account  for  his 
criticism. 


The;  Man.  117 

Then,  it  Is  said,  he  deHvered  a  Homily  in 
which  he  declares  that  no  beast  on  earth,  no 
lion  or  dragon,  is  as  dangerous  as  a  bad  woman. 
He  opened  his  discourse  with  the  famous  but  apoc- 
ryphal words,  "Again  Herodias  dances;  again  she 
demands  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist  on  a  charger." 
Most  likely  these  words  were  never  spoken.  Chrys- 
ostom  was  not  the  man  to  make  such  an  historical 
blunder  as  to  substitute  the  name  of  Herodias  for 
Salome.  At  the  same  time  he  was  not  the  man 
to  submit  tamely  to  a  threat  which  seemed  to  chal- 
lenge his  authority  in  the  pulpit.  His  sermons  be- 
came bitter  and  defiant.  The  atmosphere  was  again 
charged  with  electricity.  His  enemies  gather.  The 
court  is  once  more  alive  with  intrigue.  Theophilus 
is  sent  for ;  but  the  wily  schemer  has  learned  some- 
thing of  the  temper  of  Constantinople.  He  has 
heard  the  howl  of  the  wild  beasts,  and  will  not  ven- 
ture into  the  den  again.  He  therefore  writes  that 
his  affectionate  flock  can  not  spare  him  at  this  time. 
Three  bishops  are  sent  with  full  instructions,  and 
they  will  take  his  place  in  the  coming  struggle. 

Another  council  is  called.  New  charges  are  for- 
mulated. The  main  dependence  is  placed  upon 
what  was  called  the  Twelfth  Canon  of  the  Council 
of  Antioch,  A.  D.  341.    This  canon  declares  that  a 


ii8  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

deposed  bishop  who  appeals  to  the  secular  power 
for  restoration  shall  be  forever  regarded  as  out- 
lawed. It  was  a  critical  game.  The  friends  of 
Chrysostom  were  ready  to  show  that  the  body 
which  deposed  him  was  not  a  legal  body.  He  had 
been  condemned  by  a  so-called  council  of  thirty- 
nine  bishops,  mostly  aliens,  but  had  been  acquitted 
by  a  body  of  sixty-five.  So  really  he  had  never 
been  deposed.  Moreover,  it  was  clearly  shown  that 
the  council  which  had  passed  the  canon  in  question, 
upon  which  the  enemies  of  the  bishop  relied,  had 
been  dominated  by  a  strong  Arian  element;  that 
this  very  canon  had  been  leveled  at  Athanasius; 
and,  if  this  were  not  bad  enough,  the  canon  itself 
had  been  repealed  by  the  Council  of  Sardica.  There 
was  therefore  great  confusion  and  uncertainty  in 
the  camp  of  his  enemies.  This  confusion  was  in- 
creased when  one  of  the  aged  bishops  said  that  as 
the  Twelfth  Canon  had  been  formulated  by  Arians 
for  purposes  of  their  own,  it  could  be  regarded  as 
patent  and  conclusive  only  if  Acacius  and  Antiochus 
would  testify  that  they  belonged  to  the  same  faith. 
With  livid  cheeks  and  raging  hearts  these  ringlead- 
ers in  the  great  conspiracy  even  dared  to  promise 
their  signature  to  a  paper  making  such  a  claim. 
They  were  willing  to  abjure  their  orthodoxy  in 


The  Man.  119 

order  to  secure  a  deadly  weapon  against  Chrys- 
ostom. 

Easter  came  in  the  midst  of  the  commotion.  The 
bishops  who  had  the  ear  of  the  emperor  did  not 
scruple  to  make  false  representations.  They  de- 
clared that  the  clergy  had  ostracized  Chrysostom 
and  that  the  people  had  deserted  him ;  that  the  in- 
terests of  the  empire  and  of  the  Church  demanded 
that  he  be  silenced.  The  gullible  emperor  was  im- 
posed upon,  and  the  imperial  order  was  issued  for- 
bidding the  bishop  to  officiate  in  the  church.  Chrys- 
ostom replied  to  his  royal  master:  "I  received  the 
church  from  God  my  Savior,  and  am  intrusted  with 
the  care  of  the  people's  souls.  I  can  not  desert. 
Throw  me  out  by  force  if  you  will ;  then  you,  and 
not  I,  will  be  responsible  for  the  non-performance 
of  my  duties."  On  the  day  before  Easter  he  w^as 
again  challenged  by  the  emperor's  decree,  and  again 
he  returned  a  respectful  but  an  unyielding  reply. 
Arcadius  was  in  a  dilemma.  Three  thousand 
catechumens  were  prepared  for  baptism.  The 
solemnity  of  the  great  Church  festival  everywhere 
brooded  over  the  city.  The  people  were  tense,  de- 
fiant, revolutionary.  Paul  of  Croatia  stood  before 
Eudoxia  with  ashes  on  his  head,  like  some  prophet 
out  of  the  legendary  past,  and  said:     "Consider 


120  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

your  own  children.  Profane  not  Christ's  holy  fes- 
tival by  the  shedding  of  blood !" 

Arcadius  turned  to  Acacius  and  Antiochus  for 
advice.  They  said :  ''Wash  your  hands  of  the  mat- 
ter. Let  his  blood  be  upon  our  heads."  The  fatal 
order  was  given  to  disperse  the  worshiping  congre- 
gation. It  was  the  night  before  the  Resurrection. 
The  church  was  crowded  with  the  thousands  watch- 
ing for  the  dawn.  The  chief  officer  would  not  act 
personally,  but  sent  in  his  stead  Lucius,  a  captain 
of  the  band  of  Scrutarii  and  a  pagan.  This  officer, 
prompted  by  the  clergy  who  had  gone  with  him, 
entered  the  church  and  attempted  to  break  up  the 
service.  A  scene  of  disgraceful  confusion  followed. 
The  catechumens  were  beaten  and  driven  half- 
naked  into  the  street,  the  consecrated  wine  was 
dashed  upon  the  floor,  the  water  in  the  baptistery 
was  mingled  with  blood,  and  wounded  men  and 
women  were  dragged  about  the  church  or  thrust 
out  through  the  doors  or  the  windows. 

The  people  clung  to  the  bishop.  Driven  from 
the  churches,  they  gathered  in  the  baths  of  Constan- 
tine  for  religious  service.  This  did  not  suit  the  pur- 
pose of  the  cabal.  The  emperor  must  not  discover 
the  public  attitude  toward  Chrysostom,  and  should 
he  enter  the  church  and  find  it  empty,  it  would  at 


Th^  Man.  121 

once  suggest  to  him  the  true  state  of  affairs.  So 
rude  Thracian  soldiers  were  sent  to  the  baths  and 
ordered  to  break  up  these  conventicles  at  any  cost. 
Here  was  witnessed  another  scene  of  outrage.  The 
clergy  were  insulted,  the  women  robbed  of  their 
jewelry,  and  subjected  to  personal  violence,  and 
hundreds  were  dragged  to  prison  in  the  name  of 
the  emperor. 

Five  days  from  Pentecost,  the  final  orders  were 
issued  for  the  banishment  of  Chrysostom.  For  two 
months  he  had  been  a  virtual  prisoner.  Twice  had 
an  attempt  been  made  upon  his  life.  The  people 
had  been  roused  to  fury,  and  day  and  night  they 
guarded  his  palace.  The  foreign  ecclesiastics  rep- 
resented to  the  emperor  that  either  he  or  Chrys- 
ostom must  fall ;  that  the  city  was  not  large  enough 
for  both.  They  also,  as  before,  offered  to  take  upon 
themselves  all  the  responsibility  of  the  edict.  And 
so  the  crisis  came.  The  order  was  issued,  and 
preparations  were  made  to  have  it  carried  out. 

Chrysostom  was  ready  to  obey.  But  the  people 
were  not  so  tractable.  They  would  not  hear  of  sur- 
render. They  swore  to  protect  him  with  their  lives. 
The  city  was  on  the  threshold  of  a  reign  of  terror. 
Then  a  nobleman  friend  came  to  Chrysostom  and 
earnestly  begged  him  not  to  allow  his  departure  to 


122  Chrysostom:  Th^  Orator. 

be  known  to  the  public.  The  Thracian  troop  was 
under  arms  and  had  been  ordered  to  put  down  any 
attempt  at  rescue  with  an  iron  hand.  The  mob  that 
had  swept  the  Gothic  soldiers  of  Gainas  out  of  the 
city,  that  had  defied  Belisarius  and  held  the  city  for 
a  week  in  the  days  of  the  Blues  and  the  Greens  was 
not  to  be  intimidated  by  a  band  of  Barbarians. 
They  would  have  held  the  palace  of  the  patriarch 
against  all  the  soldiers  of  the  empire.  But  Chrys- 
ostom loved  the  people,  and  he  hated  tumult  and 
riot.  Better  his  own  sacrifice  than  confusion  and 
death. 

So  he  called  his  bishops  about  him  in  the  chan- 
cel and  made  his  last  farewell.  Thence  to  the  Bap- 
tistery, where  were  assembled  the  Deaconesses 
Olympia,  Pentadia,  Procla,  and  others.  To  these 
he  tenderly  said:  "I  have  finished  my  course,  and 
perhaps  ye  shall  see  my  face  no  more.  If  another  is 
ordained  to  my  place  who  has  not  solicited  it,  and 
who  has  been  chosen  by  the  voice  of  the  Church, 
submit  to  him  as  if  it  were  myself."  He  seemed 
to  feel  that  his  doom  was  sealed.  He  made  prepara- 
tion for  a  final  departure.  He  asked  most  ear- 
nestly for  the  prayers  of  his  faithful  friends.  His 
whole  soul  was  filled  with  an  infinite  longing  and 
an  infinite  sorrow.     And  yet,  even  in  this  shadow 


Tut  Man.  123 

of  great  blackness,  his  first  thoughts  were  for  the 
people.  The  deaconesses  in  Oriental  style  gave 
themselves  to  weeping  and  loud  lamentations.  He 
at  once  asked  that  they  be  removed  lest  the  multi- 
tudes within  and  without  the  church  become  sus- 
picious of  the  truth  and  a  riot  be  precipitated. 

Ordering  that  the  mule  upon  which  he  usuallv 
rode  be  saddled  and  led  up  to  the  west  door  of  the 
church,  he  waited  till  the  people  had  gathered  there 
to  watch  his  exit;  then,  slipping  through  a  small 
door  on  the  other  side,  he  gave  himself  into  the 
hands  of  the  soldiers.  We  have  a  record  of  the 
emotions  of  this  mighty  preacher  as  he  passed  for 
the  last  time  from  the  church  in  which  he  had 
reigned  supreme.  In  one  of  his  letters  he  has  told 
us  his  thoughts,  and  they  are  worthy  of  the  man 
and  his  great  renunciation.  ''Will  the  empress  ban- 
ish me  ?  Let  her  banish  me.  'The  earth  is  the  Lord's 
and  the  fullness  thereof.'  Will  she  command  that  I 
be  cut  in  pieces?  Let  me  be  sawn  asunder,  for  so 
was  served  the  prophet  Isaiah  before  me.  Will  she 
throw  me  into  the  sea?  I  remember  this  was  the 
fate  of  Jonas.  Or  into  a  fiery  furnace?  I  shall 
have  the  three  children  for  my  fellow-sufferers.  If 
she  will  cast  me  to  wild  beasts,  I  shall  think  how 
Daniel  went  the  same  way  to  the  lions.     If  she 


124  Chrysostom:  The  Orator. 

should  command  that  I  be  stoned,  let  it  be  so.  I 
have  Stephen  the  proto-martyr  on  my  side.  Will 
she  have  my  head  ?  Let  her  take  it ;  John  the  Bap- 
tist lost  his.  Has  she  a  mind  to  my  estate?  Let 
her  have  it.  Naked  came  I  into  this  world,  and 
naked  shall  I  go  out  of  it." 

Thus  did  he  lay  aside  his  scepter.  With  no  sul- 
len fling,  like  Wolsey,  at  the  fickleness  of  "princes' 
favor/'  or  gird  at  the  "depths  and  shoals  of  honor ;" 
with  no  peevish  consignment  of  his  powerful  ene- 
mies to  hell  and  to  purgatory,  like  Dante ;  with  no 
pompous  and  theatrical  jeremiads,  like  Cicero,  who 
banished  himself  from  his  country  for  his  country's 
good;  but  calmly  and  majestically  did  the  great 
bishop  walk  out  of  the  great  church,  the  throne  of 
his  power,  the  theater  of  his  splendid  triumphs, 
without  a  murmur  or  a  malediction  or  a  sigh,  and 
never  again  was  his  voice  to  be  heard  within  its 
sacred  walls. 


TRANSLATION. 

Not  long  could  the  people  be  kept  in  ignorance. 
For  weeks  had  they  been  looking  for  the  climax. 
They  were  wrought  up  to  a  pitch  of  fury.     The 
officers  commanded  that  the  church  doors  be  locked 
to  prevent  confusion.     This  created  the  very  con- 
fusion  it   was   intended   to  prevent.      The   people 
within  the  church  struggled  to  get  out;  the  thou- 
sands who  were  without  struggled  just  as  fiercely 
to  get  in.    The  doors  were  smashed,  the  aisles  were 
crowded  with  a  raging  mob,  the  officers  were  help- 
less and  disconcerted.     At  this  crisis  flames  were 
discovered  near   the   altar.     It   was   impossible  to 
reach  them  on  account  of  the  confusion.    In  a  very 
short  time  the  stately  building  was  a  mass  of  flames. 
Thence  the  flames  leaped  to  the  Senate  House,  first 
kindling   on   the   side   furthest   removed   from   St. 
Sophia,  making,  as  an  eye-witness  declared,  a  mag- 
nificent arch  of  fire,  under  which  the  people  walked 
back  and  forth  in  the  lurid  glare. 

The  cathedral  was  soon  in  ashes.     The  Senate 
House  was  also  completely  destroyed,  with  all  the 
125 


126  Chrysostom:  Thk  Orator. 

splendid  treasures  of  ancient  art  which  it  contained, 
except  the  statues  of  Jupiter  and  Minerva.  These 
strangely  enough  were  preserved.  The  melted  lead 
from  the  roof  flowed  down  upon  them,  forming  a 
coating  of  metal  in  which  the  falling  stones  were 
embedded.  When  the  rubbish  was  (beared  away, 
these  two  images  were  found  whole  and  sound. 
The  few  remaining  pagans  made  great  capital  of 
this,  accepting  it  as  an  omen  of  good  fortune  for 
the  cult  of  the  ancient  gods.  With  such  a  Chris- 
tian emperor  as  Arcadius  and  such  a  Christian 
priest  as  Theophilus  directing  affairs  from  his  far 
Egyptian  home,  it  might  seem  that  the  return  of  the 
old  pagan  regime  would  really  be  an  improvement. 
The  origin  of  the  fire  has  never  been  discovered. 
Many  blamed  the  enemies  of  Chrysostom,  claiming 
that  they  thus  diabolically  planned  to  destroy  his 
church  and  his  people  at  one  stroke.  Others  charged 
it  to  the  account  of  Divine  Providence,  in  punish- 
ment of  the  city  for  its  sacrilege  and  persecution. 
The  officers  contended  that  it  was  the  work  of  the 
people  themselves.  Nero  has  fired  his  city  and 
fiddled  again,  and  the  Christians  are  handy  scape- 
goats, and  they  who  have  suffered  much  may  easily 
be  made  to  suffer  more,  for  so  is  the  way  of  the 
world.     So  hundreds  of  the  people  were  impris- 


The:  Man.  127 

oned;  many  were  put  to  the  torture  In  hopes  that 
they  would  confess  or  would  implicate  the  real  of- 
fenders. The  clergy  who  remained  faithful  to 
Chrysostom  were  banished,  and  implicit  obedience 
to  the  order  of  the  emperor,  as  it  applied  to  the 
church,  was  made  the  condition  of  holding  property 
or  even  citizenship. 

Chrysostom  heard  with  a  sore  heart  of  the  evils 
that  had  befallen  the  city.  As  soon  as  the  news  of 
the  uprising  came,  he  was  placed  in  chains  and  his 
few  faithful  companions  torn  from  his  side.  He 
wrote  pitiful  letters  to  the  emperor,  begging  that 
he  might  be  permitted  to  return  to  the  city,  at  least 
long  enough  to  clear  himself  and  the  people  of  the 
grave  accusation.  His  letters  were  ignored,  and 
he  was  hurried  into  the  interior. 

Less  than  a  week  after  the  deposition  of  the 
bishop,  a  successor  was  appointed.  Nectarius,  the 
predecessor  of  Chrysostom,  had  a  brother  Arsa- 
cius.  He  had  refused  the  bishopric  of  Taurus,  de- 
claring with  an  oath  that  he  would  never  allow  his 
name  to  be  used  for  such  an  office.  He  was  now 
eighty  years  old,  and  described  by  one  ancient 
writer  as  "an  old  block,"  and  by  another  as  "muter 
than  a  fish  and  duller  than  a  frog."  He  had  all 
the  apathy  and  timeserving  of  Nectarius,  and  all 


128  Chrysostom:  The;  Orator. 

the  relentlessness  of  Theophilus;  a  sycophant, 
"dressed  in  a  little  brief  authority ;"  a  Frankenstein 
in  his  dotage.  Yet  the  faithful  were  ordered  by 
imperial  rescript  to  recognize  his  spiritual  author- 
ity and  to  receive  the  heavenly  offices  of  the  Church 
at  his  hand.  It  was  made  a  serious  crime  to  attend 
any  other  services  than  those  under  his  jurisdiction. 
Any  bishop  or  priest  who  would  not  communicate 
with  him  or  recognize  his  authority  was  deposed; 
and  whoever  entertained  in  his  home  such  bishop 
or  priest  was  stripped  of  his  property  and  punished 
at  the  discretion  of  the  soldiers. 

Many  instances  have  been  preserved  of  fiendish 
cruelty  on  the  one  side  and  splendid  heroism  on 
the  other.  Eutropius,  a  young  reader,  was  brought 
to  trial.  He  would  not  confess,  and  the  flesh  was 
raked  from  his  cheeks  with  a  sharp  iron,  and  burn- 
ing torches  were  applied  to  his  body.  Olympias, 
the  devoted  friend  of  the  deposed  bishop,  was 
singled  out  for  special  persecution.  Only  her  abso- 
lute fearlessness  saved  her  from  complete  ruin.  She 
was  of  noble  blood.  She  had  large  estates  and  was 
of  singular  beauty  of  person.  The  prefect  charged 
her  with  the  destruction  of  St.  Sophia.  She  re- 
minded him  of  the  large  sums  she  had  given  to  em- 
bellish the  church  as  proof  that  she  could  never  be 


Thi:  Man.  129 

a  party  to  its  destruction.  He  informed  her  that 
he  was  well  acquainted  with  her  past  life.  With 
fine  sarcasm  she  suggested  that  he  take,  then,  the 
witness  stand  and  let  some  one  else  play  judge.  He 
assured  her  that  everything  would  be  overlooked 
if  she  would  promise  allegiance  to  Arsacius.  But 
she  had  been  openly  accused  and  she  demanded  an 
open  trial.  This  did  not  suit  the  purpose  of  the  au- 
thorities, and  so,  without  a  hearing,  they  imposed 
a  fine  and  dismissed  the  case.  She  soon  left  the 
city  rather  than  accept  the  tool  of  the  emperor  in 
the  place  of  Chrysostom.  Pentadia,  another  dea- 
coness, was  dragged  through  the  streets  of  the  city 
and  cast  into  prison.  On  her  release,  she  deter- 
mined to  leave  Constantinople.  This  news  was 
brought  to  Chrysostom,  and  he,  ever  mindful  of 
the  best  interests  of  the  people,  begged  that  she  re- 
main, as  her  presence  was  needed  more  in  the  city 
than  anywhere  else.  So  she  staid,  and  through  all 
the  days  of  darkness  and  of  death  she  stood  her 
ground  and  ministered  with  tender  hands  to  the 
suffering  and  the  distressed. 

At  this  time  Innocent  I  was  bishop  of  Rome.  On 
account  of  the  wealth  of  this  see,  its  position  at  the 
political  center  of  the  world,  with  the  unsurpassed 
facilities  thus  afforded  for  communication  with  all 


I30  .  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

parts  of  the  empire,  there  was  a  growing  tendency 
to  defer  to  the  Roman  bishop  in  matters  of  opinion 
or  of  creed.  He  was  gradually  becoming  the 
referee  of  the  Church.  This  as  yet,  however,  was 
without  official  sanction.  As  late  as  325  A.  D.,  the 
primacy  of  Rome  was  unknown.  Canon  Six  of  the 
Council  of  Nice  placed  the  Roman  bishop,  whose 
aufhority  was  paramount  in  Italy,  on  a  level  with 
the  bishop  of  Alexandria,  whose  authority  was  rec- 
ognized in  Egypt,  Libya,  and  the  Pentapolis.  To 
the  bishop  of  Rome,  therefore,  wrote  the  bishop  of 
Alexandria.  'Tope  Theophilus  to  Pope  Innocent" 
is  the  phraseology  of  the  formal  greeting.  In  this 
letter  Theophilus  announces  that  he  has  deposed 
Chrysostom,  and  that  Innocent  should,  as  a  conse- 
quence, break  off  all  communication  with  him. 
Soon  after  the  receipt  of  this  by  Innocent,  a  letter 
came  from  Chrysostom  himself,  also  an  appeal 
from  forty  bishops  who  wqtq  friendly  to  Chrys- 
ostom. 

The  letter  of  Chrysostom  began :  "To  my  Lord, 
the  most  revered  and  divinely  beloved  Innocent, 
John  sends  greeting."  He  uses  the  same  term 
'Xord"  in  reference  to  the  Bishops  Demetrius,  Pan- 
sophius.  Pappus,  and  Eugenius,  who  were  sent  to 
Rome  with  messages  from  the  exile.     In  this  letter 


uTh^  Man.  131 

he  rehearses  the  whole  incident.  He  begins:  "I 
suppose  that  even  before  receiving  our  letter,  your 
Piety  has  heard  of  the  iniquity  which  has  been  per- 
petrated here;  for  the  magnitude  of  our  distress 
has  left  scarcely  a  single  portion  of  the  world  un- 
informed of  this  grievous  tragedy ;  for  report  carry- 
ing the  tidings  of  what  has  happened  to  the  very 
extremities  of  the  earth  has  everywhere  caused 
great  mourning  and  lamentation.  But  inasmuch  as 
we  ought  not  to  mourn,  but  to  restore  order  and 
to  see  by  what  means  the  most  grievous  storm  of 
the  Church  may  be  stayed,  we  have  deemed  it 
necessary  to  persuade  my  Lords,  the  most  honored 
and  pious  Bishops  Demetrius,  Pansophius,  Pappus, 
and  Eugenius,  to  leave  their  own  churches  and 
venture  out  on  this  great  sea  voyage,  and  set  out 
on  a  long  journey  from  home,  and  hasten  to  your 
charity,  and  after  informing  you  clearly  of  every- 
thing, to  take  measures  for  the  redressing  of  evils 
as  speedily  as  possible." 

He  shows  how  ''Theophilus,  who  has  been  in- 
trusted with  the  presidency  of  the  Church  of  Alex- 
andria, having  been  commanded  to  repair  alone  to 
Constantinople,  certain  men  having  brought  an  ac- 
cusation against  him  to  the  most  devout  emperor, 
arrived,  bringing  with  him  no  small  multitude  of 


132  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

Egyptian  bishops,  as  if  wishing  to  show  from  the 
outset  that  he  came  for  war  and  antagonism."  He 
also  notes  how  the  proffered  hospitaHty  of  the  resi- 
dent bishop  had  been  insulted  and  long-established 
usage  violated.  "When  he  set  foot  in  the  great  and 
divinely  beloved  Constantinople,  he  did  not  enter 
the  church  according  to  the  custom  of  the  law  which 
has  prevailed  from  ancient  time ;  he  held  no  inter- 
course with  us,  and  admitted  us  to  no  share  in  his 
conversation,  his  prayers,  or  his  society ;  but  as 
soon  as  he  disembarked,  having  hurried  past  the 
vestibules  of  the  church,  he  departed  and  lodged 
somewhere  outside  the  city;  and  although  we  ear- 
nestly entreated  him  and  those  who  had  come  with 
him  to  be  our  guests  (for  everything  had  been  made 
ready  and  lodgings  provided  and  whatever  was 
suitable),  neither  they  nor  he  consented.  We,  see- 
ing this,  were  in  great  perplexity,  not  being  able  to 
discover  the  cause  of  this  unjust  hostility.  Never- 
theless, we  discharged  our  part,  doing  what  became 
us,  and  continually  beseeching  him  to  meet  us  and 
to  say  for  what  cause  he  hazarded  so  great  a  con- 
test at  the  outset,  and  threw  the  city  into  such  con- 
fusion." 

He  further  explained  his  own  attitude  toward 
the  matter.     "But  as  those  who  accused  him  were 


Th^  Man.  133 

urgent,  our  most  devout  emperor  summoned  us  and 
commanded  us  to  go  outside  the  walls  to  the  place 
where  Theophilus  was  sojourning,  and  hear  the 
argument  against  him.  For  they  accused  him  of 
assault,  and  slaughter  and  various  other  crimes. 
But  knowing  as  we  did  the  laws  of  the  fathers,  and 
paying  respect  and  deference  to  the  man,  and  hav- 
ing also  his  own  letters  which  prove  that  lawsuits 
ought  not  to  be  taken  beyond  the  border,  but  that 
the  affairs  of  the  several  provinces  should  be 
treated  within  the  limits  of  the  province,  we  would 
not  accept  the  office  of  judge,  but  deprecated  it 
with  great  earnestness.  But  he,  as  if  striving  to 
aggravate  former  insults,  having  summoned  my 
archdeacon,  by  a  stretch  of  arbitrary  power,  as  if 
the  Church  were  already  widowed  and  had  no 
bishop,  by  means  of  this  man  seduced  all  the  clergy 
of  his  own  side.  .  .  .  And  having  done  this, 
he  sent  and  summoned  us  to  trial,  though  he  had 
not  yet  cleared  himself  of  the  charges  brought 
against  him,  a  proceeding  directly  contrary  to  the 
canons  and  to  all  the  laws." 

It  is  a  simple,  earnest,  na'ive  letter.  It  carries 
conviction  by  its  very  sincerity.  It  gives  us  a 
glimpse  of  the  great-hearted,  simple-minded  bishop 
at  this  trying  time.    The  writer  insists  not  so  much 


134  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

upon  personal  affront  and  personal  violence  as  upon 
the  effect  such  things  will  have  in  the  mind  of  the 
people. 

It  is  the  Church  that  has  been  Insulted;  the 
Church  which  will  suffer.  Not  even  in  heathen 
courts  could  such  things  obtain.  "May  you  be  in- 
duced," he  concludes,  "to  exert  your  zeal  on  our 
behalf;  for  in  so  doing  you  will  confer  a  favor,  not 
upon  ourselves  alone,  but  also  upon  the  Church  at 
large,  and  you  will  receive  your  reward  from  God, 
who  does  all  things  for  the  peace  of  the  Church." 
Copies  of  this  letter  were  sent  to  the  bishop  of 
Milan  and  the  bishop  of  Aquileia  also. 

Innocent  wrote  to  Theophilus  declaring  that  the 
deposition  of  Chrysostom  was  annulled;  that  the 
Synod  of  Chalcedon  was  irregular,  the  charges 
monstrous  and  absurd,  and  that  if  Theophilus  was 
in  possession  of  serious  charges  he  must  appear  be- 
fore a  regular  council,  there  to  press  these  charges 
and  to  ask  for  justice.  But  there  was  no  assump- 
tion of  authority.  It  was  the  opinion  of  a  peer; 
the  verdict  of  reason  and  of  unbiased  judgment. 
In  the  reply  of  Innocent  to  Chrysostom  there  was 
the  same  notable  absence  of  sic  volo,  sic  jiibeo. 
It  is  the  letter  of  one  friend  to  another.  There  is 
no  consideration  of  the  legal  questions  involved,  no 


The:  Man.  135 

promise  of  redress.  "Let,  therefore,  dear  brother, 
the  consciousness  of  your  innocency  .  .  .  com- 
fort and  stay  your  mind.  For  you  who  are  the  pas- 
tor and  teacher  of  so  great  a  charge  need  not  to  be 
taught  that  the  best  men  are  ever  frequently  put  to 
the  test,  whether  they  will  persevere  in  the  perfec- 
tion of  patience  and  not  succumb  to  any  toil  of  dis- 
tress. For  he  ought  to  endure  all  things  who  trusts 
first  of  all  in  God,  and  then  in  his  own  conscience." 

Rather  a  tame  and  nerveless  attitude  we  would 
say  for  the  reputed  lineal  successor  of  Peter,  the 
predecessor  of  Gregory  VII  at  Canossa,  and  of 
Innocent  III,  who  wrested  the  crown  from  the 
English  King  John. 

Innocent  did  not  stop  here.  He  appealed  to 
Honorius,  Emperor  of  the  West.  A  svnod  of  Italian 
bishops  was  convened.  The  synod  petitioned  the 
emperor  that  a  General  Council  be  held  at  Thessa- 
lonica,  in  which  both  the  Eastern  and  the  Western 
Churches  would  be  represented.  In  response  to 
this  appeal,  Honorius  wrote  Arcadius,  and  sent  mes- 
sages of  peace  and  cordiality  by  the  hands  of  five 
chosen  bishops,  two  presbyters,  and  one  deacon. 
This  august  deputation  was  arrested  in  Athens, 
taken  by  ship  to  a  suburb  of  Constantinople,  their 
letters  wrested  from  them  by  force,  the  thumb  of 


136  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

Marianus  being  broken  in  the  struggle,  and  finally 
sent  back  to  Rome  in  disgrace.  Honorius  was  at 
this  time  threatened  by  Alaric ;  hence  he  was  power- 
less to  resent  the  insult  to  his  embassy,  and  Innocent 
was  only  Innocent.  His  word  was  but  the  advice  of 
a  fellow-bishop.  His  authority  was  limited  to  his 
own  see.  The  Church  owed  him  no  allegiance.  So 
out  of  the  West  no  help  could  come  to  the  distressed 
Church  at  Constantinople.  The  hapless  bishop 
must  fight  his  own  battles,  and  drink  to  the  dregs 
his  own  cup  of  bitterness. 

But  Themis  had  not  forgotten.  Nemesis  was 
not  asleep.  The  powers  of  heaven  seemed 
more  potent  to  punish  than  the  dignitaries  of  earth. 
The  stars  In  their  courses  were  fighting  for  Chrys- 
ostom. His  avengers  came  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  Out  from  the  North  came  the  Huns,  ravag- 
ing with  fire  and  sword.  Thrace  and  Illyria  were 
trampled  beneath  the  hoofs  of  their  swift  horses. 
Syria  and  Asia  Minor  were  smitten  by  the  fierce 
Isaurians,  whose  hiding-place  was  in  the  fastnesses 
of  Taurus.  An  awful  hailstorm,  with  flaming 
lightning  and  fearful  portents,  swept  over  Constan- 
tinople. The  city  was  shaken  by  earthquake  after 
earthquake. 

Then  the  sword  struck  home  to  the  heart  of  his 


Tut  Man.  137 

enemies.  Eudoxia,  the  arch-plotter,  died  hi  horri- 
ble agony,  and  was  buried  in  the  same  grave  with 
her  dead  new-born  child.  Cyrenius,  one  of  the  four 
bishops  who  had  made  themselves  responsible  for 
the  deposition  of  Chrysostom,  had  received  a  slight 
injury  during  the  Council  of  Chalcedon.  Maruthas 
of  Macedonia  had  trodden  upon  his  foot.  It  was  not 
supposed  to  be  very  serious ;  but  gangrene  followed, 
then  amputation,  and  then  came  the  end  of  the  plot- 
ting bishop  by  a  lingering  and  terrible  death.  An- 
other of  the  cabal  died  of  cancer  of  the  tongue, 
after  confessing  the  plots  of  which  he  had  been 
guilty  and  the  lies  he  had  told. 

So  portentous  was  all  this  that  Arcadius,  dazed 
and  anxious,  sent  messengers  to  Nilus,  the  famous 
anchorite  of  Mt.  Sinai,  asking  his  intercession.  This 
recluse  had  once  been  the  prefect  of  Constantinople. 
He  had  forsaken  wealth  and  family  and  position  for 
his  cell  in  the  desert.  His  piety  and  his  power  in 
prayer  were  known  all  over  the  East.  He  turned 
upon  the  embassy  and  said,  ''Go,  tell  the  emperor 
of  yours  that  Nilus  of  Sinai  says:  'How  can  you 
expect  Constantinople  to  be  delivered  from  earth- 
quake and  from  fire  after  the  enormities  perpetrated 
there ;  after  crime  has  been  established  by  authority 
of  law ;  after  the  thrice-blessed  John,  the  Pillar  of 


1^8  •  Chrysostom:  The  Orator. 


the  Church,  the  Lamp  of  Truth,  the  Trumpet  of 
Jesus  Christ,  has  been  driven  from  the  city?  How 
can  I  grant  my  prayers  to  a  city  smitten  by  the 
Avrath  of  God,  whose  thunder  is  even  now  ready 
to  fall  upon  her?'" 

It  was  on  June  20th  that  Chrysostom  surrendered 
himself  to  his  enemies.  He  was  at  once  hurried  to 
the  harbor,  placed  aboard  a  small  vessel,  and  car- 
ried to  the  city  of  Nice.  Here  he  was  kept  awhile 
until  the  excitement  caused  by  the  great  fire  had 
subsided.  The  soldiers  were  courteous,  the  climate 
was  healthful,  and  his  spirits  were  greatly  refreshed. 
It  had  been  planned  that  he  should  be  taken  to 
Sebastia.  This,  however,  seemed  too  pleasant  a 
place  to  suit  his  enemies ;  so,  early  in  July,  he  was 
informed  that  his  destination  was  the  village  of 
Ciicusus.  This  paltry  hamlet  was  on  the  far  bor- 
derland of  Cilicia,  in  the  midst  of  the  Taurian  range. 
It  was  remote,  barren,  and  constantly  exposed  to 
the  inroads  of  Isaurian  bandits.  Here,  in  the  reign 
of  Constantius,  Paulus,  an  earlier  bishop  of  Con- 
stantinople, had  been  banished  under  conditions 
somewhat  similar  to  the  banishment  of  Chrysostom, 
and  here  the  hapless  man  had  been  strangled  by  or- 
der of  the  governor.  Chrysostom  begged  for  a 
more  tolerable  place  of  exile ;  but  his  petitions  were 


The  Man.  139 

heartlessly  denied,  and  preparations  were  made  for 
the  journey. 

It  was  while  at  Nice  that  he  wrote  his  first  let- 
ter to  Olympias.  He  gives  no  sign  of  weakening. 
His  heart  may  be  burdened  within  him,  but  he  will 
bide  the  smart.  He  will  not  suffer  his  friends  to 
know  his  agony.  He  is  still  John,  Bishop  of  Con- 
stantinople. He  writes,  not  to  relieve  his  mind, 
though  to  Olympias  he  opens  his  heart  more  than 
to  any  other;  but  he  writes  to  steady  the  faith  of 
the  Church.  In  this  letter  he  says:  "Come,  now, 
let  me  relieve  the  wound  of  thy  despondency  and 
disperse  the  thoughts  which  gather  the  cloud  of 
care  around  thee."  He  then  draws  in  detail  a  vivid 
picture  of  the  Church  adrift  upon  the  tide.  "We 
behold  a  sea  upheaved  from  the  very  lowest  depths ; 
some  sailors  floating  dead  upon  the  waves,  others  in- 
gulfed by  them,  the  planks  of  the  ship  breaking  up, 
the  sails  torn  to  tatters,  the  masts  sprung,  the  oars 
dashed  out  of  the  sailors'  hands,  the  pilots  seated 
on  the  deck  clasping  their  knees  with  their  hands 
instead  of  grasping  the  rudder,  bewailing  the  help- 
lessness of  their  situation  with  sharp  cries  and  bit- 
ter lamentations;  neither  sky  nor  sea  clearly  visi- 
ble, but  all  one  deep,  impenetrable  darkness,  so  that 
no  one  can  see  his  neighbor,  whilst  mighty  is  the 


140  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

roaring  of  the  billows,  and  monsters  of  the  sea  at* 
tack  the  crew  on  every  side."  But  the  Supreme 
Pilot  is  still  at  the  helm.  Yea,  it  is  He  who  waitS; 
not  to  get  the  better  of  the  storm  by  His  skill,  but 
who  can  calm  the  raging  waters  with  His  rod.  "Do 
not  therefore  be  cast  down.  For  there  is  only  one 
thing,  Olympias,  which  is  really  terrible,  and  that 
is  sin;  as  for  all  other  things — plots,  enmities, 
frauds,  calumnies,  insults,  accusations,  confisca- 
tions, exile,  the  keen  sword  of  the  enemy,  the  peril 
of  the  deep,  warfare  of  the  whole  world,  or  any- 
thing else  you  like  to  name — they  are  but  idle  tales." 

Like  the  to  triumphe  of  the  ancient  prophet 
whose  fig-tree  blossomed  not  and  whose  olive-tree 
failed;  like  the  shout  of  victory  from  the  Mamer- 
tine  Prison  of  the  aged  servant  of  Jesus  Christ,  who 
was  now  ready  to  be  offered  up,  comes  to  us  the 
swan-song  of  the  exile.  When  we  are  ready  to  en- 
large our  canon  and  recognize  as  authority  other 
books  than  those  now  inventoried  by  the  Thirty- 
nine  Articles  of  Faith,  side  by  side  with  the  second 
letter  general  of  Peter  and  the  letter  of  Paul  to 
Philemon,  we  will  make  a  place  for  the  first  letter  ©f 
John  Chrysostom  to  Olympias,  deaconess  of  Con- 
stantinople. 

But  other  proof  he  gave  that  he  had  forgotten 


Th^  Man.  141 

his  own  misfortunes  in  his  care  for  the  Church. 
Some  years  before,  through  his  influence,  Paganism 
had  been  outlawed  in  Phoenicia.  He  also  sent  out 
many  missionaries  into  this  province  to  propagate 
the  truths  of  the  Gospel.  In  the  midst  of  his  men- 
tal unrest  at  Nice  he  still  remembers  this  great 
cause.  He  writes  letter  after  letter  to  the  superin- 
tendent of  this  mission;  takes  a  profound  interest 
in  every  detail  of  the  work ;  strives  to  stir  up  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  Church,  and  offers  any  assistance 
in  his  power  toward  the  furtherance  of  the  enter- 
prise. 

Then,  on  July  4th,  the  exile  started  on  his  sad 
journey.  Straight  across  Asia  Minor  did  the  road 
lie.  Through  the  primeval,  shadowy  forests  of 
Bithynia,  perhaps  along  the  road  later  followed  by 
European  devotees  journeying  overland  to  Jerusa- 
lem; across  the  salt  deserts  and  burning  trackless 
wastes  of  Galatia,  through  the  wild  mountain  gorges 
of  Cappadocia,  went  this  dismal  pilgrim's  progress, 
heart-sore,  foot-weary,  hopeless,  sick;  feeding  ot\ 
black  bread,  drinking  foul  water,  scorched  with 
fever,  shaking  with  chills ;  watching  by  night  against 
the  prowling  bandit;  threatened  each  day  by  the 
bishops  through  whose  diocese  he  must  pass, — no 
wonder  the  aged  sufferer  writes  that  his  lot  is  worse 


142  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

than  the  chained  convict  who  works  in  the  public 
mines. 

He  would  have  rested  in  Galatia,  but  Leontius, 
Bishop  of  Ancyra,  warns  him  that  his  life  will  not 
be  safe  if  he  stops  for  a  single  day  in  his  diocese. 
On  he  hurries  to  Csesarea  in  Cappadocia.  There 
he  was  received  with  demonstrations  of  honor  and 
respect  by  the'  people  and  the  civil  officers.  But 
Bishop  Pharetrius  was  of  another  mind.  To  be 
sure  he  had  sent  word  to  Chrysostom  that  a  warm 
welcome  awaited  him.  Says  Chrysostom :  "I  found 
an  impression  in  my  mind  precisely  the  reverse; 
but  of  this  I  said  nothing."  L,et  him  tell  the  story 
of  what  followed : 

"Now,  when  I  arrived  late  one  evening  at 
Csesarea  in  an  exhausted  and  wornout  condition, 
being  in  the  very  height  of  a  burning  fever,  faint 
and  suffering  to  the  last  degree,  I  lighted  upon  an 
inn  situated  just  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  and 
took  great  pains  to  find  some  physicians  and  allay 
this  fiery  fever,  for  it  was  now  the  height  of  my 
tertian  malady.  And  in  addition  to  this  there  was 
the  fatigue  of  the  journey,  the  toil,  the  strain,  the 
total  absence  of  attendants,  the  difficulty  of  getting 
supplies,  the  want  of  a  physician,  the  wasting  ef- 
fects of  toil  and  heat  and  sleeplessness.    Thus  I  was 


The;  Man.  143 

well-nigh  a  dead  man  when  I  entered  the  city.  Then 
indeed  I  was  visited  by  the  whole  body  of  the  clergy 
and  the  people,  monks,  nuns,  physicians,  and  I  had 
the  benefit  of  great  attention,  as  all  paid  me  every 
kind  of  ministration  and  assistance. 

"Pharetrius,  however,  nowhere  appeared,  but 
waited  for  my  departure,  I  know  not  with  what  pur- 
pose in  mind.  When,  then,  I  saw  that  my  disor- 
der had  slightly  abated,  I  began  to  form  plans  for 
my  journey,  so  as  to  reach  Cucusus,  and  enjoy  a 
little  repose  after  the  calamities  of  the  way.  And 
whilst  I  was  thus  situated,  it  was  suddenly  an- 
nounced that  the  Isaurians  in  countless  multitudes 
were  overrunning  the  district  of  Caesarea,  and  had 
burned  a  large  village  and  were  most  violently  dis- 
posed. The  tribune  having  heard  this,  took  the  sol- 
diers which  he  had  and  went  out.  For  they  were 
afraid  lest  the  enemy  should  make  an  assault  also 
upon  the  city;  and  all  were  in  terror  and  in  an 
agony  of  alarm,  the  very  soil  of  their  country  be- 
ing in  jeopardy,  so  that  even  the  old  men  under- 
took the  defense  of  the  walls. 

"While  affairs  were  in  this  condition,  suddenly 
towards  dawn  a  rabble  of  monks  rushed  up  to  the 
house  where  we  were,  threatening  to  set  fire  to  it 
and  to  treat  us  with  the  utmost  violence  unless  we 


144  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

turned  out  of  it.  And  neither  the  fear  of  the  Isau- 
rians  nor  my  own  infirmity,  which  was  so  grievously 
afflicting  me,  nor  anything  else  made  them  more 
reasonable;  but  they  pressed  on,  animated  by  such 
rage  that  even  the  proconsular  soldiers  were  terri- 
fied. For  they  kept  threatening  them  with  blows, 
and  boasted  that  they  had  shamefully  beaten  many 
of  the  proconsular  soldiers.  The  soldiers  having 
heard  these  things,  sought  refuge  with  me,  and  en- 
treated and  beseeched  me,  saying,  'Even  if  we  are 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Isaurians,  deliver  us 
from  these  wild  beasts !' 

"When  the  governor  heard  this,  he  hastened 
down  to  the  house,  intending  to  succor  me,  but  the 
monks  would  not  pay  any  heed  to  his  exhortations, 
and,  in  fact,  he  was  powerless.  Perceiving  the 
great  straits  in  which  affairs  were  placed,  and  not 
daring  to  advise  me  either  to  go  out  to  certain 
death,  or  on  the  other  hand  to  stay  in-doors  owing 
to  the  excessive  fury  of  these  men,  he  sent  to  Phare- 
trius  beseeching  him  to  grant  a  few  days'  respite  on 
account  of  my  infirmity  and  the  impending  danger. 
But  even  then  nothing  was  effected,  and  on  the 
morrow  the  monks  arrived  even  fiercer  than  before, 
and  none  of  the  presbyters  dared  to  stand  by  me, 
but  covered  with  shame  and  blushes — for  they  said 


The  Man.  145 

these  things  were  done  by  the  instruction  of  Phare- 
trius — they  concealed  themselves  and  lay  hid,  not 
even  responding  when  I  called  them. 

"What  need  to  make  a  long  story?  Although 
such  great  terrors  were  imminent,  and  death  well- 
nigh  certainty,  and  the  fever  was  oppressing  me,  I 
flung  myself  at  high  noon  into  the  litter  and  was 
carried  out  thence,  all  the  people  shrieking  and 
howling,  and  imprecating  curses  on  the  perpetrator 
of  these  deeds,  whilst  every  one  wailed  and  la- 
mented. But  when  I  got  outside  the  city,  some  of 
the  clergy  also  gradually  came  out  and  escorted  me, 
mourning  as  they  went.  And  having  heard  some 
persons  say,  'Why  are  you  leading  him  away  to 
manifest  death?'  one  of  those  who  was  warmly  at- 
tached to  me  said  to  me,  'Depart,  I  entreat  you. 
Pall  into  the  hands  of  the  Isaurians ;  only  get  away 
from  here,  for  wherever  you  may  fall,  you  will  fall 
into  a  place  of  security,  if  only  you  escape  our 
hands.'  Then,  having  heard  and  seen  these  things, 
the  good  Seleucia,  the  generous  wife  of  my  Lord 
Rufinus,  exhorted  and  entreated  me  to  lodge  at  her 
suburban  home,  which  was  about  five  miles  from 
the  city;  and  she  sent  some  men  to  escort  me,  and 
so  I  departed  thither. 

"But  not  even  there  was  this  plot  against  me 


146  Chrysostom:  Th^  Orator. 

to  come  to  an  end.  For  as  soon  as  Pharetrius 
knew  what  she  had  done,  he  pubHshed  many  threats 
against  her.  But  when  she  received  me  into  her 
villa,  I  knew  nothing  of  these  things,  for  when  she 
came  out  to  meet  me,  she  concealed  these  things 
from  me,  but  disclosed  them  to  her  steward,  and 
ordered  him  to  afford  me  every  possible  means  of 
repose,  and  if  any  of  the  monks  should  make  an 
assault,  he  was  to  collect  the  laborers  from  her  other 
farms  and  thus  marshal  a  force  against  them. 
Moreover,  she  besought  me  to  take  refuge  in  her 
house,  which  had  a  fortress  and  was  impregnable, 
that  I  might  escape  the  hands  of  the  bishops  and 
the  monks.  This,  however,  I  could  not  be  induced 
to  do,  but  remained  in  the  villa,  knowing  nothing 
of  the  plans  which  were  devised  after  these  things. 
"Even  then  they  were  not  content  to  desist  from 
their  fury  against  me ;  but  Pharetrius  beset  the  lady, 
as  she  says,  straitly  threatening  her  and  forcing  her 
to  expel  me  even  from  the  suburb.  So,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  night,  Evethius,  the  presbyter,  came  to 
me,  and,  having  roused  me  from  sleep,  exclaimed 
with  a  loud  voice,  'Get  up  I  pray  you;  the  Bar- 
barians are  upon  us  and  are  close  at  hand.'  It  was 
midnight,  a  dark  murky  night,  without  a  moon. 
We  had  no  companion,  no  assistant,  for  all  had  de- 


The  Man.  147 

serted  us.  Nevertheless  I  got  up  and  ordered 
torches  to  be  Ht.  But  these  the  presbyter  ordered 
to  be  put  out  for  fear  the  Barbarians  should  be  at- 
tracted by  the  light  and  attack  us.  Then  the  mule 
which  carried  my  litter  fell  upon  its  knees,  the  road 
being  rugged  and  steep  and  stony,  and  I  was  thrown 
down  and  narrowly  escaped  destruction.  After 
which  I  dismounted  and  was  dragged  along  on  foot, 
for  to  walk  was  impossible  through  such  difficult 
country  and  amongst  steep  mountains,  in  the  middle 
of  the  night." 

Thirty  days  later  he  reached  Cucusus.  Here  he 
found  friends.  Dioscorus,  the  principal  citizen  of 
the  village,  provided  lodgings  for  him,  and  Adel- 
phius,  the  bishop,  treated  him  with  great  respect, 
even  offering  him  opportunity  to  preach  from  his 
own  throne.  This  Chrysostom  wisely  declined. 
Later,  the  aged  Sabiniana,  a  deaconess  of  Constan- 
tinople, came  to  Cucusus  and  announced  her  pur- 
pose to  stay  with  him  and  minister  unto  him  to  the 
end.  Others  of  his  friends  came  and  took  up  their 
abode  here,  that  they  might  be  near  him. 

A  better  day  had  apparently  dawned.  His  bodily 
health  was  greatly  restored,  and  he  began  once  more 
to  lay  his  hand  upon  the  pulse  of  the  religious  world. 
There  was  no  movement,  public  or  private,  that  did 


148  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

not  interest  him.  He  was  once  more  abreast  of  the 
march  of  events.  From  his  distant  point  of  ob- 
servation he  soon  commanded  the  whole  field. 

To  Innocent  he  wrote,  congratulating  him  upon 
the  care  he  had  taken  to  settle  the  Churches  in 
peace  and  pleasant  serenity,  the  removal  of  scandal 
and  disorder,  and  the  reverence  paid  to  the  Consti- 
tutions of  the  Fathers.  He  learned  that  the  mis- 
sions in  Phoenicia  were  not  prospering.  He  at  once 
wrote  various  bishops,  pleading  with  them  that  they 
excite  and  encourage  fit  persons  to  undertake  this 
work,  even  making  himself  responsible  for  the  ex- 
penses of  this  especial  field.  Gemellus,  a  layman, 
was  promoted  to  some  high  office.  Chrysostom 
writes  him  that  while  others  might  congratulate 
him  on  his  new  honors,  he  himself  would  rather 
dwell  on  the  abundant  opportunities  Gemellus 
w^ould  now  enjoy  of  exercising  wisdom  and  gentle- 
ness on  a  larger  scale.  Anthemius  had  been  made 
prefect  and  consul.  The  alert  bishop  writes: 
"Nothing  has  really  been  added  to  you.  It  is  not 
the  prefect  or  the  consul  whom  I  love,  but  my  most 
dear  and  gentle  Lord  Anthemius,  full  of  philosophy 
and  understanding."  Theophilus — not  he  of  evil 
memory,  but  an  obscure  priest  of  Constantinople — 
begins  to  neglect  public  service,  and  receives  a  lov- 


The:  Man.  149 

ing  epistle  of  sorrow,  expressing  the  hope  that  he 
has  been  falsely  reported,  and  that  he  yet  shows  the 
devotion  of  other  days. 

John  Chrysostom,  the  homeless  exile,  was  still 
the  bishop  of  Constantinople,  the  patriarch  of  the 
Eastern  Empire.  The  seat  of  government  was  no 
longer  on  the  Bosporus,  but  in  the  heart  of  the 
lonely  Taurian  Mountains.  Arsacius  might  occupy 
the  palace,  but  Chrysostom  still  wielded  the  scepter. 
"All  Antioch  is  at  Cucusus,"  said  Porphyry,  the 
Bishop  of  Antioch.  ''This  dead  man  rules  the  liv- 
ing; this  exile  conquers  his  conquerors,"  was  the 
angry  complaint  of  his  checkmated  enemies.  The 
letters  that  came  out  of  this  winter-scarred  village 
were  making  history,  and  the  Church,  from  the 
Adriatic  to  the  Euphrates,  was  offering  homage  at 
this  shrine. 

But  bitter  things  were  yet  in  store.  The  Tau- 
rian winter  is  proverbially  severe.  The  winter  that 
followed  the  coming  of  Chrysostom  was  one  of 
the  worst  of  its  kind.  He  could  not  be  kept  warm. 
A  fire  burned  in  his  room  day  and  night.  He  did 
not  leave  his  bed,  but  lay  all  the  time  under  heaps 
of  blankets.  Night  after  night  he  did  not  sleep. 
His  old  infirmities,  resulting  from  the  severity  of 
his  life  as  an  anchorite,  took  root  again,  and  ex- 


I50  Chrysostom:  The;  Orator. 

istence  became  a  torture  and  a  madness.  Nature 
had  been  sorely  cheated  out  of  her  dues  and  now 
demanded  the  pound  of  flesh  nominated  in  the  bond. 
In  the  spring  the  Isaurians  came  down  the  moun- 
tain gorges  and  filled  all  the  land  with  terror.  So 
imminent  did  the  danger  become,  that  in  the  fol- 
lowing winter  it  was  thought  best  to  seek  a  hiding- 
place  in  the  country  near  the  village.  A  cave  in 
the  side  of  the  rock,  with  bed  and  table  and  cup- 
board, is  still  shown  as  one  of  these  hiding-places. 
All  this,  however,  did  not  satisfy  his  enemies. 
Madame  de  Stael  only  ten  leagues  from  Paris,  and 
Paris  was  still  the  salon  of  Madame  de  Stael.  So 
Bonaparte  ordered  her  to  place  forty  leagues  be- 
tween herself  and  the  obsequious  city  in  twenty-four 
hours.  Chrysostom  at  Cucusus  was  too  near  Con- 
stantinople. His  hand  could  reach  the  highest  seats 
in  the  episcopal  palace ;  his  voice  could  still  be  heard 
in  the  gatherings  of  the  people.  And  Cucusus,  with 
its  famine  and  its  cold  and  its  wasting  disease,  was 
too  agreeable  a  place  to  satisfy  Severian  and  Por- 
phyry and  Theophilus.  Far  in  the  north,  on  the 
desolate  shores  of  the  Euxine,  bleak  and  cold,  was 
Pityus.  The  place  was  ideal  for  their  purposes ; 
the  journey  thither  almost  impossible.  It  was  a 
promising  scheme,  a  diabolical  scheme,  and  it  was 
soon  arranged.     So  two  guards   were  appointed, 


The:  Man.  151 

rough,  shagg}^  Barbarians,  and  they  were  charged 
not  to  spare  his  age  nor  his  infirmities,  but  to  hurry 
relentlessly,  with  the  sinister  intimation  that  a 
tragedy  in  the  wilderness  would  not  be  displeasing 
to  their  superiors.  A  certain  reward  if  they  brought 
the  bishop  safe  to  the  distant  place  of  exile;  a 
larger  reward  in  proportion  to  the  celerity  of  their 
movements;  a  reward  larger  still  if  they  reached 
the  end  of  their  journey  without  him. 

One  of  these  guards  seemed  to  be  touched  by 
the  pitiful  state  of  their  prisoner.  The  other  obeyed 
orders.  And  so  for  three  months,  in  sun  and  rain, 
they  dragged  the  fever-stricken,  bareheaded,  tot- 
tering bishop  toward  the  distant  goal.  Five  miles 
beyond  Comana  in  Pontus,  they  stopped  for  the 
night.  Their  charge  was  put  to  bed  in  the  church 
of  St.  Basiliscus.  Bishop  Basiliscus  had  suffered 
martyrdom  during  the  persecution  under  Max- 
imian,  and  had  been  buried  in  the  oratory. 

That  night,  as  Chrysostom  tossed  on  his  sleep- 
less couch,  a  vision  of  the  martyred  bishop  ap- 
peared. This  vision  said  to  him:  "Be  of  good 
cheer,  brother,  we  shall  meet  to-morrow."  A  simi- 
lar vision  was  vouchsafed  a  presbyter  of  the  Church 
who  was  charged  to  provide  a  place  for  Brother 
John,  for  he  was  coming  soon. 


152  Chrysostom:  Th^  Orator. 

The  next  morning,  cheered  by  this  heavenly 
message,  Chrysostom  begged  that  he  might  remain 
for  an  hour  in  order  that  he  might  offer  his  devo- 
tions at  the  shrine.  The  request  was  denied.  The 
soldiers  were  obdurate,  and  the  cruel  march  was 
resumed.  Only  a  short  distance  did  they  proceed. 
The  poor  refugee  had  reached  the  end  of  his  re- 
sources. The  mark  of  death  was  set  upon  his  face. 
Even  the  stubborn  soldiers  could  see  that.  Hur- 
riedly they  returned  to  the  church.  There  Chrys- 
ostom asked  for  a  white  robe.  He  received  the 
Holy  Eucharist;  he  bade  his  attendants  a  feeble 
farewell,  and  then  raising  himself  to  a  sitting  pos- 
ture, and  looking  around  upon  the  company  of 
monks  and  holy  virgins  who  knelt  about  his  couch, 
a  spark  of  the  ancient  flame  flashed  from  his  eyes, 
and  an  echo  of  the  old  sweetness  came  into  his 
voice,  as  he  uttered  the  famous  words:  "Glory  be 
to  God  for  all  things.  Amen."  And  so  he  passed 
away. 

"  He  was  exhaled ;  his  Creator  drew 
His  spirit  as  the  sun  the  morning  dew." 

The  lion  is  down;  the  king  is  dead;  the  great 
heart  has  stopped  beating ;  the  mighty  brain  is  cold ; 
the  golden  tongue  is  still;  the  tired  spirit  has  gone 
out  to  meet  the  "good-morning"  of  the  angels  on 
the  eternal  hills. 


L'ENVOI. 

Th£:  mills  of  the  gods  were  grinding,  grinding, 
and  they  were  grinding  exceeding  small.  The  poor 
emaciated  body  was  buried  in  the  grave  of  the  ear- 
lier martyr  Basiliscus.  The  promise  of  the  vision 
had  been  fulfilled.  The  lonely  grave  in  the  far 
frontier  sheltered  now  the  brother  bishop.  But 
the  body  of  the  younger  martyr  did  not  remain 
t?iere ;  nor  did  his  name  rest  under  the  stigma  which 
had  been  placed  upon  it.  Vindication  was  at  hand, 
swift,  splendid,  complete. 

Innocent  of  Rome,  broken  by  his  great  sorrow 
and  incited  by  a  mighty  indignation,  wrote  a  spirited 
letter  to  Arcadius,  sternly  declaring  that  the  blood 
of  the  martyred  bishop  cried  out  from  the  dust 
against  the  cowardly  emperor  and  his  vengeful  wife. 
He  cut  Arcadius  off  from  all  Church  communion 
and  privileges,  making  of  him  a  religious  pariah. 
Honorius  also  wrote  his  brother,  charging  him 
with  criminal  surrender  to  the  diabolical  schemes 
of  a  rapacious  woman.  These  letters  were  as  scor- 
pion stings  to  the  conscience  of  Arcadius.  His 
153 


154  Chrysostom  :  Thk  Orator. 

whole  being  was  stirred  and  staggered.  He  whim- 
pered for  mercy.  He  humbly  reminded  his  accusers 
that  Eudoxia  had  already  paid  the  price  of  her 
treachery,  and  promised  that  the  guilty  bishops 
should  be  brought  to  the  bar. 

But  the  wheels  were  grinding,  grinding.  Be- 
fore Arcadius  could  undertake  reparation,  he  him- 
self was  stricken;  and  so  lonely  was  his  situation, 
and  so  desperate  the  game  of  politics  in  which  he 
was  but  a  miserable  pawn,  and  so  doubtful  the  loy- 
alty of  his  court,  that,  according  to  Procopius,  he 
bequeathed  his  scepter  and  confided  his  son  until 
he  should  be  of  age  to  the  keeping  of  Jezdegard, 
King  of  Persia.  Bitter  sarcasm  of  authority !  The 
Nemesis  of  Fate!  The  harrowing  memory  of 
Tewksbury,  the  ghosts  of  Bosworth  Field,  the 
bloody  sweat  of  Charles  IX  with  the  shrieks  of 
St.  Bartholomew  hounding  his  tortured  soul, — 
Arcadius  knew  them  all,  and  suffered  them  all, 
as  he  committed  to  the  care  of  an  ancient  and 
hereditary  foe  the  interests  of  a  kingdom  which  he 
had  debauched,  and  the  training  of  a  son  who  was 
currently  reported  to  be  illegitimate. 

Theophilus  of  Alexandria  did  not  long  outlive 
the  man  whom  he  had  harried  to  his  death;  yet 
long  enough  to  order  the  picture  of  Chrysostom  to 


The;  Man.  155 

be  brought  and  to  bow  down  in  heartbroken  re- 
morse before  it.  So  did  the  dead  saint  conquer  the 
fierce,  unconquerable  enemies  who  had  overmatched 
him  when  aHve.  Porphyry  of  Antioch  dying,  his 
successor,  Alexander,  placed  the  name  of  Chrys- 
ostom  upon  the  diptyche,  or  sacred  tablets,  in  the 
church.  Here  appeared  the  names  of  the  illustrious 
dead  and  living,  and  here  the  triumph  of  the  martyr 
was  complete.  Not  long  afterward,  Atticus  of  Con- 
stantinople was  compelled  to  do  the  same.  This 
example  was  followed  by  other  great  Churches,  and 
thus  did  the  Church  and  the  emperor  acknowledge, 
within  ten  years  of  his  death,  that  his  deposition 
had  been  illegal,  that  he  was  innocent  of  all  crime, 
and  that  henceforth  he  was  to  have  his  place  in  the 
glorious  company  of  the  apostles,  the  goodly  fel- 
lowship of  the  prophets,  the  noble  army  of  martyrs 
of  whom  the  world  is  not  worthy. 

Thirty-five  years  after  the  death  of  Chrysostom 
a  demand  was  made  that  his  body  be  brought  to 
Constantinople.  The  order  was  therefore  given, 
and  in  the  emperor's  barge  the  remains  were 
brought.  The  ceremony  was  attended  with  ex- 
traordinary pomp  and  demonstration.  The  royal 
chariot  was  in  waiting.  In  the  midst  of  profound 
silence  the   procession   filed   through   the   densely 


156  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

crowded  streets.  The  city  was  keeping  a  solemn 
holiday ;  the  state  was  in  mourning.  At  the  Church 
of  the  Apostles  the  cortege  was  met  by  Theodosius 
II  and  his  sister.  The  imperial  cloak  was  tenderly 
thrown  over  the  bier;  the  emperor  humbly  knelt, 
and  reverently  laid  his  face  against  the  casket,  con- 
fessing the  mistakes  of  his  parents,  and  tearfully 
offering  reparation  to  the  memory  of  the  sainted 
dead.  Then  at  the  foot  of  the  communion  table  they 
laid  his  body  to  rest,  the  bishops  themselves  lower- 
ing the  casket  into  the  ground.  Thus  came  he  into 
his  heritage  at  last,  and  the  day  of  his  burial  corona- 
tion has  been  kept  sacred  by  the  Church  unto  this 
day. 


BOOK  III 
THE  MESSAGE 


THE  MESSAGE. 

One:  hundred  years  after  the  death  of  John  of 
Constantinople  the  tardy  world  gave  proof  of  its 
full  and  final  appreciation  of  his  power  by  calling 
him  John  Chrysostom,  or  John  of  the  Golden 
Mouth,  and  thus  will  he  be  known  to  the  end  of 
time.  By  this  title  the  peerless  preacher  was  not 
only  crowned  but  assigned  his  kingdom.  He  was 
not  a  statesman,  nor  a  diplomat,  nor  a  philosopher, 
nor  a  scholar.  He  was  an  orator,  and  as  such  his 
title  is  undisputed,  and  he  reigns  alone. 

He  was  contemporary  with  mighty  men.  A 
glorious  constellation  of  genius  was  that  which 
blazed  out  during  the  years  in  which  he  was  preach- 
ing at  Constantinople.  In  the  West  were  Ambrose, 
Jerome,  Augustine,  men  of  grip  and  of  iron,  mighty 
men  of  affairs, — Ambrose,  who  established  the  au- 
thority of  the  Church;  Jerome,  who  fixed  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Church;  and  Augustine,  who  formu- 
lated the  theology  of  the  Church.  In  the  East  were  • 
the  three  great  Cappadocians,  Basil,  Gregory  Na- 
zianzen,  and  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  lofty-souled,  cul* 
159 


i6o  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

tured,  magnetic,  splendid  with  the  ardor  of  devo- 
tion and  fascinating  with  the  poetry  of  asceticism. 
These  were  the  men  with  whom  John  of  Constanti- 
nople divided  the  attention  of  the  world. 

Just  a  moment  to  glance  at  their  several  claims 
to  distinction.  /Ambrose  \of  Milan  was  of  the  an- 
tique Roman  type.  He  was  built  on  the  lines  of  a 
consul  or  a  senator.  He  was  a  born  statesman.  When 
thirty-four  years  old  he  entered  a  council  as  a  civil 
officer  to  allay  the  tumult.  Two  factions  were 
struggling  to  elect  a  bishop.  Ambrose  addressed 
the  multitude,  and  counseled  moderation.  So  apt 
was  the  speech  and  so  masterly  the  spirit  of  the 
speaker  that  the  people  cried  out,  "Ambrose  for 
bishop !  Ambrose  for  bishop !"  The  council  was 
swept  off  its  feet,  and  before  the  managers  could 
recover  control,  the  young  Roman  officer  was 
elected  and  had  reluctantly  accepted  the  honor 
thrust  upon  him. 

He  never  ceased  to  be  a  Roman  officer;  he 
merely  exchanged  the  fasces  for  a  miter.  He  was 
the  impersonation  of  law  and  authority.  Maximus 
rebelled  against  his  master  Gratian,  and  accepted 
the  purple  after  Gratian  had  been  assassinated. 
Ambrose  refused  to  admit  the  usurper  to  commun- 
ion, and  was  largely  instrumental  in  keeping  him 


The  Message).  i6i 

out  of  Italy.  In  the  Senate  Hall  in  Rome  stood  an 
altar  to  Victory.  On  this  all  oaths  were  made.  It 
had  been  removed.  The  pagan  prefect  of  the  city 
determined  to  restore  it.  It  was  replaced,  but  Am- 
brose protested,  and  in  defiance  of  the  prefect  the 
altar  was  thrown  into  the  street. 

The  Empress  Justina  w^as  an  Arian.  She  de- 
manded a  church  in  Milan  for  those  of  her  own 
faith.  She  even  sent  soldiers  to  enforce  her  claim. 
They  came  into  his  church  during  a  public  service, 
and  with  one  accord  fell  upon  their  knees.  "We 
came  to  pray  and  not  to  fight,"  they  afterwards  as- 
sured the  stern  bishop.  The  Emperor  Theodosius  or- 
dered the  wholesale  slaughter  of  the  Thessalonians. 
The  bishop  closed  the  doors  of  the  church  against 
the  emperor,  and  forbade  any  priest  to  offer  him  the 
ministry  of  his  office.  For  eight  months  the  duel 
between  the  giants  lasted;  then  the  emperor  threw 
himself  prostrate  upon  the  pavement  before  the 
altar  and  humbly  pleaded  for  mercy.  Such  was 
Ambrose,  ''the  spiritual  ancestor  of  the  Hildebrands 
and  the  Innocents,"  the  author  of  the  papal  creed 
that  ''the  altar  is  above  the  throne." 

[Jerome,  j master  of  the  Eatin,  the  Greek,  and 
the  Hebrew,  sat  himself  down  at  Bethlehem  and 
gave  to  the  world  the  entire  Bible  in  Eatin,    What 


i62  Chrysostom  :  Thk  Orator. 

Luther's  translation  did  for  the  German  language, 
what  the  King  James  Version  did  for  the  English, . 
this  version  by  Jerome  did  for  the  language  of  the 
Latin  Church.  The  Vulgate,  as  it  is  called,  ranks 
with  the  Septuagint.  The  word  of  one  man  in  Latin 
at  Bethlehem  is  equivalent  to  the  word  of  seventy 
men  at  Alexandria  in  Greek. 

jT^ugustinef  is  the  author  of  the  only  book  of  this 
period  which  is  now  popularly  read.  His  *'Con- 
fessions"  are  on  the  same  shelf  with  the  "Medita- 
tions of  Marcus  Aurelius"  and  the  '"Imitation"  of 
a  Kempis.  His  life-motto,  "We  are  restless  till  we 
rest  in  Thee,"  has  been  the  song  in  the  night  of 
countless  thousands  in  all  ages  of  the  world.  His 
conversion  is  noted  in  the  Roman  Calendar  and  his 
doctrine  of  Predestination  is  only  just  losing  its 
grip  upon  the  religious  world.  He  was  the  teacher 
of  John  Calvin  and  the  inspiration  of  Whitefield  and 
Jonathan  Edwards. 

In  the  Greek  world  wasj  Basil  the  Greatj;  his 

V--- ■  '- ~— ^ 

mother  and  grandmother  samts  of  the  Calendar; 

three  of  his  brothers  bishops;  a  mighty  preacher 

himself,  trained  in  the  university  centers.     There 

also  was  j  Gregory   Nazianzen,!  born  of  a  mother 

"whose  name  is  like  a  star  in  these  ancient  heavens 

of  perished  lights."    What  wonderful  women  the\ 


Th^  MitssAG^.  163 

were  in  these  days,  to  be  sure !   Nonna,  the  mother 
of  this  Gregory ;  Emmelia,  the  mother  of  Basil  and 


rGregory  of  Nyssa^'  daughter  of  a  calendared  saint 
and  mother  of  three  bishops ;  Monica,  the  mother  of 
Augustine ;  and  Anthusa,  the  mother  of  the  Golden 
Mouth.  The  hand  that  rocks  the  cradle  began 
early  to  rock  the  Christian  world. 

"  Happy  he 
With  such  a  mother !     Faith  in  womankind 
Beats  with  his  blood,  and  trust  in  all  things  high 
Comes  easy  to  him ;  and  though  he  trip  and  fall, 
He  shall  not  blind  his  soul  with  clay." 

Then  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  the  beautiful-souled 
brother  of  Basil ;  full  of  sweetness  and  purity ;  see- 
ing the  glory  of  God  in  the  grass  of  the  valley,  the 
lilies  of  the  field,  and  the  swing  and  song  of  the 
eternal  sea ;  who  lived  all  his  life  in  the  springtime 
of  the  soul. 

I  These  were  the  men  who  touched  John  of  Con- 
(  stantinople  shoulder  to  shoulder.  It  was  the  Eliz- 
abethan Age  in  Church  history.  The  mighty  tides 
of  inspiration  which  had  begun  to  ebb  with  the 
passing  of  the  first  teachers  of  Christianity  were 
returning,  and  were  once  more  at  flood.  The  young 
faith  which  had  conquered  the  world  empire  was 
now  colonizing  its  new  possessions,  and  was  there- 


164  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

fore  developing  leaders  and  builders  and  masters. 
It  was  an  age  which  was  to  condition  and  leaven 
all  coming  ages,  and  the  spirit  of  the  times,  the 
Zeitgeist,  fired  the  blood  and  inspired  the  brain  and 
m.ade  men  kings.  God  was  laying  upon  the  shoul- 
ders of  the  Church  the  burden  and  the  government 
of  the  yet  unlived  centuries,  and  chosen  men  were 
standing  high  up  the  mountain  slopes  and  reaching 
up  still  higher  to  take  the  onus  directly  from  his 
hands.    So  there  were  giants  in  those  days. 

When,  therefore,  the  Church  by  common  con- 
sent gave  to  John  of  Constantinople  the  supreme 
place  as  a  pulpit  orator,  it  was  a  magnificent  trib- 
ute. It  meant  that  he  W3i$-  primus  inter  pares.  He 
was  unrivaled  among  rivals. '^thanasius^  just  pass- 
ing off  the  stage  of  action,  was  a  mighty  "athlete  of 
the  truth;"  so  mighty  that  Julian  condemned  him 
alone  of  all  the  Christians  to  die,  as  there  was  no 
safety  for  paganism  while  he  could  speak.  Gregory 
Nazianzen  preached  himself  up  from  a  little,  ob- 
scure, helpless  Church  in  Constantinople  to  the  pul- 
pit of  St.  Sophia,  where  scholars  and  statesmen  and 
poets  and  philosophers  sat  spellbound  by  his  elo- 
quence. But  there  was  only  one  Golden  Mouth. 
His  was  not  the  greatness  of  the  mountain  that 
rises  from  the  plain  unrivaled  and  alone,  but  the 


Th^  Message.  165 

glory  of  the  lofty  peak  that  stands  in  the  midst  of 
the  towering  range  and  that  dominates  all  its  colos- 
sal neighbors. 

We  have  accepted  as  a  truism  the  verdict  of  the 

poet : 

"  Beneath  the  rule  of  men  entirely  great, 
The  pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword." 

This  has  become  a  part  of  our  copy-book  reper- 
toire.    Let  us  be  ready  to  admit  as  an  equal  truth 
that  the  tongue  is  mightier  than  the  pen.    Oratory 
is  the  king  among  arts.     Painting,  music,  poetry 
please  and  thrill  and  inspire,  but  oratory  is  master, 
and  gives  orders  and  makes  laws.    Written  thought 
is  an  iceberg  adrift  upon  the  sea.    It  is  massive  and 
resistless,    and    may    crush    whatever    it    touches. 
Spoken   thought   is   the   storm   that   sweeps    from 
continent  to  continent;  it  is  projectile,  it  is  in  full 
cry,  it  is  on  the  trail,  it  will  drag  down  the  quarry. 
Philip  said  of  Demosthenes,  "Had  I  been  in  his 
audience,  I  should  have  taken  up  arms  against  my- 
self."    Warren  Hastings  said  that  in  the  midst  of 
Burke's  address  in  Westminster  Hall,  in  which  he 
described  the  cruelties  inflicted  upon  the  natives  of 
India,  and  during  which  the  whole  audience  shud- 
dered and  many  women  swooned,  *'For  one-half 
hour  I  actually  felt  myself  to  be  the  most  culpable 


i66  Chrysostom  :  The  Orator. 

man  on  earth."  Brutus  waving  in  the  Forum  the 
bloody  knife  by  which  Lucretia  slew  herself,  and 
telling  over  the  story  of  her  death,  closed  the  gates 
of  the  city  against  Tarquin  and  overturned  the 
tyrant's,  throne.  Mirabeau,  crippled,  pitted  with 
smallpox,  misshapen,  called  because  of  his  personal 
appearance  "the  nephew  of  Satan,"  held  the  Na- 
tional Assembly  in  its  place  in  spite  of  the  threats 
of  Louis.  Said  he  to  Breze,  the  representative  of 
the  king,  "Go  tell  your  royal  master  that  we  are 
here  by  order  of  the  people,  and  can  be  driven  out 
only  by  bayonets."  His  voice  guided  the  whirl- 
wind, and  had  he  lived  he  might  have  saved  France 
from  the  Reign  of  Terror.  Sheridan  closed  his 
speech  at  the  trial  of  Warren  Hastings,  and  imme- 
diately the  House  of  Commons  adjourned,  on  the 
ground  that  the  members  were  too  excited  to  judge 
the  case  honestly  and  to  vote  fairly.  The  audience 
of  Jonathan  Edwards  felt  itself  sliding  into  perdi- 
tion. Brutus  turned  the  hearts  of  the  people  away 
from  Caesar  while  the  dead  body  of  Caesar  was  be- 
fore them.  Marc  Antony  brought  them  back  with 
tears  for  the  "poor,  bleeding  piece  of  earth,"  and 
with  brands  of  fire  for  the  "traitors'  houses."  Un- 
der the  control  of  men  entirely  great,  the  tongue  is 
mightier  than  the  pen. 


The:  Message:.  167 

It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  an  analysis  of  the 
remarkable  power  of   Chrysostom.     Perhaps  it  is 
vain  to  attempt  analysis  in  any  case.    There  is  that 
about  what  we  call  eloquence  which  laughs  at  the 
critic  and  defies  the  scalpel.     Emerson  defines  the 
art  as  "the  appropriate  organ  of  the  mightiest  per- 
sonal energy."     We  already  know  that,  or  some- 
thing like  that.     Such  a  definition  does  not  define. 
According  to  Canon  Farrar,  ''Eloquence  is  the  no- 
ble, the  harmonious,  the  passionate  expression  of 
truths  profoundly  realized,  or  of  emotions  intensely 
felt."    Daniel  Webster  claims  that  ''true  eloquence, . 
does  not  consist  in  speech.     It  must  exist  in  the 
mai4.  the  subject,  the  occasion.  "It  comes; Tf  it  come 
at  all,  like  the  outbreaking  of  a  fountain  from  the 
earth,  or  the  bursting  forth  of  volcanic  fires,  with 
\  spontaneous,  original,  native  force."    N^aa^^  .these, 
definitions   gives   us  the   entire   secret.    JQiey^  ^e; 
^ib7the  cl)nditrons,  the  media,  tjie  soil  from  which 
oTThe  law7by"w^  not  the  flower  itself; 

the  volcanic  fires,  if  you  please,  bursting  from  the 
womb  of  the  world,  but  not  the  ingredients  of  the 
seething  outrush. 

Dr.  James  M.  Buckley,  in  his  great  work 
on  Extemporaneous  Oratory  summarizes  the  ele- 
ments   of    oratory:      "The    voice    susceptible    of 


i68  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

modulation  in  tone,  pitch,  and  rhythm;  the  fig- 
ure, attitude,  and  action,  together  with  light  and 
shade  which  are  the  elements  of  music,  sculpture, 
and  painting,  are  involved  in  oratory.  For  ordi- 
nary effects  it  may,  and  for  higher  effects  it  must, 
appeal  to  the  intellect,  the  sensibilities,  and  the 
deeper  emotions ;  and  as  it  appeals  to  these  it  must 
employ  them;  its  ultimate  object  being  to  influence 
the  will  by  convincing  the  judgment,  arousing  the 
conscience,  or  moving  the  heart."  This  calm  judi-  j 
cial  statement,  taken  all  in  all,  is  perhaps  the  most 
comprehensive  and  the  most  satisfying.  To  be  sure 
it  is  done  in  cold  blood.  It  is  a  snapshot  at  a  sun- 
beam ;  but  the  lines  in  the  film  are  well  marked  and 
the  perspective  is  good.  The  agencies  of  oratory 
and  the  object  of  oratory  are  indicated;  and  when 
these  agencies  are  operative  and  this  object  is  at- 
tained, behold  we  have  eloquence.  As^  Wendell 
Philli^s_said,  "I  earnestly  try  to  get  the  audience 
to  think  as  I  do." 

Judged  by  this  standard,  John  Chrysostom  was 
past-master  of    the  art.      How  he  did  it  no  one  j 
knows ;  that  he  did  it,  the  volatile  rabble  of  An-  \ 
tioch  and  the  inflammable  mobs  of  Constantinople,  , 
held  as  by  a  magician's  spell,  will  testify.  * 

His  power  as  a  preacher  was  not  aided  by  his 


fHE)  Me:ssag^.  169 

personal  appearance.     Many  of  the  great  orators 
have  been  great  men  physically.       Dr.   Chalmers 
possessed  a  ponderous  frame.    Daniel  Webster  was 
called    by    Sydney    Smith,    ''a    steam    engine    in 
breeches."     Fox,   Burke,   John   Bright   were   stal- 
warts.   And  yet  there  are  notable  exceptions.    Wil- 
berforce  was   a  pygmy.     Boswell   says  he  looked 
hke  a  shrimp  and  talked  like  a  whale.     Summer- 
field  was  a  lifelong  invalid.     St.  Paul,  Athanasius, 
John  Wesley  were  less  than  the  average.     So  with 
John  of  Constantinople.     He  was  short  of  stature, 
his  frame  slight,  his  cheeks  hollow,  his  head  bald. 
But  his  forehead  was  ^a  great  dome  and  Jiis  eyes 
likeTurningntorches.     No  one  thoughtof  his  per- 
sonal appearance  when  he  began  to  speak^  even  as 
we"  never  consider  the  tiny  lake   in  the  wilds  of 
the  North  where  the  river  takes  its  rise,  when  we 
watch  the  sweep  of  the  lordly  Mississippi.     It  was 
the  overwhelming  rush  of  the  whirlwind,  and  no 
one  has  time  to  remember  the  cloud  no  bigger  than 
a  man's  hand  which  came  out  of  the  horizon.     It 
was  power  incarnate,  and  the  listeners  cared  little 
for  the  magazine  in  which  the  power  was  stored. 

A  discriminating  authority  thus  describes  his 
style:  "A  power  of  exposition  which  unfolded  in 
lucid  order,  passage  by  passage,  the  meaning  of  the 


170  Chrysostom  :  The:  Orator. 

book  in  hand;  a  rapid  transition  from  clear  ex- 
j)Osition  or  keen  logical  argument  to  fervid  exhor- 
tation, or  pathetic  appeal,  or  indignant  denuncia- 
tion; the  versatile  ease  with  which  he  could  lay 
hold  of  any  little  incident  of  the  moment,  such  as 
the  lighting  of  the  lamps  in  church,  and  use  it  to  il- 
lustrate his  discourse;  the  mixture  of  plain^, com- 
mon-sense, sirnple  boldness,  and  tender  affection 
with  which  he  would  strike  home  to  the  hearts  and 
consciences  of  his  hearers, — all  these  are  not  only 
s:eneral  characteristics  of  the  man,  but  are  usuallv 
to  be  found  manifested  more  or  less  in  the  com- 
pass of  each  discourse.  It  is  this  rare  union  of 
powers  which  constitutes  his  superiority  to  almost 
all  the  other  Christian  preachers  with  whom  he 
might  be,  or  has  been,  compared.  Savonarola  had 
all,  and  more  than  all  his  fire  and  vehemence,  but 
untempered  by  his  sober,  calm,  good  sense,  and 
wanting  his  rational  method  of  interpretation. 
Chrysostom  was  eager  and  impetuous  at  times  in 
speech  as  well  as  in  action ;  but  he  was  never  fanat- 
ical. Jeremy  Taylor  combines,  like  Chrysostom, 
real  earnestness  of  purpose  with  rhetorical  forms 
of  expression  and  florid  imagery;  but  his  style  is 
far  more  artificial,  and  is  overlaid  with  a  multi- 
farious learning  from  which  Chrysostom  was  en- 


The:  Me:ssage:.  171 

tirely  free.  Wesley  is  almost  his  match  in  simple, 
straightforward,  practical  exhortation,  but  does  not 
rise  into  flights  of  eloquence  like  his." 

He  was  a  man  of  one  Book.  His  Bibk  was 
never  closed.  His  Homilies  are  expositions.  His 
sermons  sparkled  with  jewels  from  this  mine.  In 
his  "Homilies  on  the  Statues"  may  be  counted  no » 
lessjhan  four  hundred  quotations  from  the  Holy^j 
Scriptures,  covering  fort)^-five^o£Ui^^^ 
oTIthe^authorized  Canon,  and  three  books  of  the 
ApocrypK'"  Trrr 'eyes^  were  open  as  well  to  the 
pages  of  nature.  ^'HTf^ef^^-^to  the  birds  which  fly 
high  to  avoid  the  net;  the  deer  which  avoids  the 
snare  in  which  it  has  once  ^een  entangled;  the 
spider  which  spreads  out  the  fine  texture  of  its  web 
inTthe  sunshine ;  the  pebble  sinking  gently  into  the 
depths  of  the  sea;  the  "interchanging  dances  of 
the  seasons;"  the  meadow  of  the  earth  festooned 
with  flowers ;  the  meadow  of  the  sky  spangled  with 
stars,  "the  rose  below,  the  rainbow  above." 

He  draws  from  his  splendid  store  of  classical 
knowledge.  He  compares  the  crowd  of  hearers  to 
the  sea  broken  with  waves,  and  to  a  field  of  corn 
across  which  the  west  wind  blows,  and  it  is  pretty 
certain  that  he  has  in  mind  the  familiar  figures  of 
Homer. 


172  Chrysostom;  The  Orator. 

"  So  roll  the  billows  to  the  Icarian  shore, 
From  east  and  south  when  winds  begin  to  roar ; 
Burst  their  dark  mansions  in  the  clouds  and  sweep 
The  whitening  surges  of  the  ruffled  deep; 
And  as  on  corn  when  western  gusts  descend, 
Before  the  blasts  the  lofty  harvests  bend." 

He  speaks  of  the  "smoothness  of  Isocrates,  the 
weight  of  Demosthenes,  the  dignity  of  Thucydides, 
the  sublimity  of  Plato,"  as  if  he  were  noting  passing 
acquaintances.  He  quotes  from  the  ''Apology," 
points  out  the  weak  points  in  the  "Republic,"  and 
borrows  his  figures  from  the  "Phaedrus." 

He  was  not  a  theologian  nor  a  founder  of  a 
school  of  theology.  Metaphysics  and  mysticism 
were  the  very  atmosphere  of  an  Eastern  thinker. 
The  subtlest  and  most  abstract  subject,  the  finest 
hair-splitting,  the  being  of  God,  the  entity  of  the 
human  spirit,  the  limitations  of  space, — this  was 
the  field  and  the  delight  of  the  Oriental.  But 
Chrysostom  avoids  this.  His  sermons  are  practi- 
cal. He  preaches  on  live  subjects, — sin,  repentance, 
faith,  the  redemptive  work  of  Christ.  He  believed 
in  a  hereditary  tendency  to  sin,  but  not  that  sin  is 
a  part  of  man's  nature.  He  preached  the  absolute 
freedom  of  the  will,  for  this  was  the  tonic  needed 
in  that  age  of  supposed  demoniac  possession  and 
fatalism.     He  meets  the  speculation  of  Arius,  not 


The:  Me:ssag^.  173 

by  counter  speculation,  but  by  reference  to  Holy 
Scripture;  disclaiming  all  power  to  understand  the 
inscrutable  nature  of  the  Godhead.  He  does  not 
depend  upon  good  works,  neither  does  he  repudiate 
them  with  the  popular  school  of  his  day.  In  fact, 
he  was  a  preacher,  and  his  business  was  to  awaken 
the  conscience,  not  to  answer  questions;  to  bring 
about  results,  not  to  formulate  a  system.    Hence  he 

moved  the  people;  his  views  were  never  discussed 
*«*^'^--^.   ...,,.---  ■  ■■■■ 

by  a  General  Council;  his  preaching  never  awak- 
ened theological  controversy. 

He  accepted  the  whole  Bible,  and  drew  his  ma- 
terial from  the  full  treasury.  It  is  said  that  he  was 
the  first  to  apply  the  term  ra  PipXui,  The  Bible,  to 
the  collection  of  sacred  writings.  He  even  quotes 
from  Esther,  Tobit,  Judith,  Wisdom,  and  Ecclesias- 
ticus  without  any  suggestion  of  hesitation  or  sus- 
picion. This  need  cause  no  surprise,  as  the  Canon 
of  Scripture  by  which  these  books  are  excluded  is 
not  as  old  as  Chrysostom.  He  was  not  a  Hebrew 
scholar,  yet  so  sound  was  his  judgment  and  so  acute 
his  sympathy  with  human  conditions  that  he  avoids 
many  of  the  errors  of  his  contemporaries,  and 
reaches  by  the  intuitions  of  his  heart  what  other 
men  have  reached  by  a  knowledge  of  interpretation 
and  exegesis. 


174  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

A  few  extracts  from  his  sermons  follow,  in  ad- 
dition to  those  already  given,  in  order  that  the  style 
of  the  great  preacher  may  be  further  illustrated. 
We  claim  no  special  worth  in  these  selections.  The 
richness  and  abundance  of  material  makes  any 
choice  difficult  and  confusing.  So  productive  was 
Chrysostom  that,  according  to  an  old  writer,  only 
God  can  know  all  his  literary  works.  There  are,  to 
begin  with,  two  hundred  and  forty-two  letters.  The 
greater  number  of  these  were  written  during  the 
days  of  his  exile.  Here  we  may  study  the  man. 
They  are  private  epistles  to  special  friends,  but  the 
world  can  read  every  line  with  safety  and  satisfac- 
tion. There  is  no  retreat,  no  concession,  no  sur- 
render. He  tells  of  the  evils  that  have  come,  but 
he  does  not  complain.  He  describes  the  persecu- 
tions and  the  heart-breakings,  but  there  is  no  bit- 
terness for  the  persecutor  and  no  weak  pity  for  him- 
self. His  treatises  are  important.  Some  of  them 
have  been  mentioned  and  quoted.  Others  are  his 
work  on  Virginity,  the  Instructions  of  Catechu- 
mens, and  the  treatise  to  prove  that  no  one  can 
harm  the  man  who  does  not  harm  himself. 

Then  come  his  sermons,  six  hundred  of  which 
are  expository.  His  practice  was  to  take  the  Scrip- 
tures, book  by  book,  and  so  we  have  in  these  Homi- 


The:  Message.  175 

lies  a  mine  of  exposition,  o£  interpretation,  of  bril- 
liant periods,  and  of  practical  common  sense.  He 
aims  at  real  targets  and  seeks  for  immediate  re- 
sults. The  Homily,  prepared  evidently  with  great 
care,  was  usually  followed  by  an  extemporaneous 
address.  Indeed  he  breaks  out  at  times  into  sudden 
bursts  of  impromptu  eloquence  in  the  midst  of  an 
exposition.  His  interpretation  is  according  to  the 
school  of  Antioch.  This  school  was  a  protest 
against  the  allegorizing  tendency  of  Origen.  With 
his  fervid  imagination  and  poetic  temperament  we 
might  have  expected  him  to  be  a  disciple  of  Origen. 
But  he  was  too  serious  and  too  much  in  earnest. 
Hence  his  exegesis  was  guarded  against  mystical 
speculation  and  allegory,  and  his  pulpit  discourses 
were  free  from  doctrinal  abstraction  and  empty 
rhetoric.  His  methods  of  interpretation  and  his 
splendid  oratory  were  alike  held  as  mere  instru- 
ments to  awaken  his  hearers  and  to  secure  the  larg- 
est spiritual  growth. 


EXTRACTS. 

"O  my  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass 

from  me." — Matt,  xxxi,  42. 

''The  doctrine  of  the  incarnation  was  very 
hard  to  receive.  For  consider  what  a  great  thing 
it  was  to  hear  and  to  learn  that  God,  the  ineffa- 
ble, the  incorruptible,  the  unintelligible,  the  in- 
visible, the  incomprehensible,  in  whose  hands 
are  the  ends  of  the  earth,  who  looketh  upon  the 
earth  and  causeth  it  to  tremble,  who  toucheth  the 
mountains  and  maketh  them  smoke,  the  weight 
of  whose  condescension  not  even  the  cherubim 
were  able  to  bear,  but  veiled  their  faces  by  the 
shelter  of  their  wings ;  that  this  God,  who  sur- 
passes all  understandings  and  baffles  all  calcula- 
tion, having  passed  by  all  angels,  archangels, 
and  all  the  spiritual  powers  above,  deigned  to 
become  man  and  to  take  flesh  formed  of  earth 
and  clay,  and  suffer  all  things  to  which  man  is 
liable." 
From  sermon  preached  after  Eutropius  had  left 

the  sanctuary  of  the  Church  and  had  been  captured. 
176 


The  Message.  lyy 

"Delectable  indeed  are  the  meadow  and  the 
garden,  but  far  more  delectable  the  study  of  the 
divine  writings.  For  there  indeed  are  flowers 
which  fade,  but  here  are  thoughts  which  abide 
in  full  bloom ;  there  is  the  breeze  of  the  zephyr, 
but  here  is  the  breath  of  the  Spirit ;  there  is  the 
hedge  of  thorns,  but  here  is  the  guarding  provi- 
dence of  God;  there  is  the  song  of  the  cicadas, 
but  here  is  the  melody  of  the  prophets ;  there  is 
the  pleasure  which  comes  from  sight,  but  here 
is  the  profit  which  comes  from  study.  The  gar- 
den is  confined  to  one  place,  but  the  Scriptures 
are  in  all  parts  of  the  world ;  the  garden  is  sub- 
ject to  the  necessities  of  the  seasons,  but  the 
Scriptures  are  rich  in  foliage  and  laden  with 
fruit  alike  in  winter  and  summer.  Let  us,  then, 
give  diligent  heed  to  the  study  of  the  Scriptures ; 
for  if  thou  doest  this,  the  Scriptures  will  expel 
thy  despondency  and  engender  pleasure,  and  in 
the  tumult  of  life  it  will  save  thee  from  suffer- 
ing like  those  who  are  tossed  by  troubled  waves. 
The  sea  rages,  but  thou  sailest  on  with  calm 
weather;  for  thou  hast  the  Scripture  for  thy 
pilot.  A  few  days  ago  the  Church  was  besieged ; 
an  army  came  and  fire  issued  from  their  eyes ; 
yet  it  did  not  scorch  the  olive-tree ;  swords  were 


178  Chrysostom:  Tut  Orator. 

unsheathed,  yet  no  one  received  a  wound;  the 
imperial  gates  were  in  distress,  but  the  Church 
was  in  security." 

Chrysostom  is  not  always  satisfied  with  the  in- 
terest shown  in  his  sermons.    The  problem  of  reach- 
ing the  masses  is  not  a  new  one.    As  far  back  as  in 
the  fourth  century  the  question  was  being  asked 
why  people  do  not  come  to  the  Church.    The  sum- 
mer service  was   an  early  trial  to  the  preacher's 
nerves.     Hear  him  in  one  of  his  great  discourses: 
''How  am  I  distressed  when  I  call  to  mind 
that  in  festival  days  the  multitude  assembled  are 
like  the  broad  expanse  of  the  sea,  but  now  not 
even  the  smallest  part  of  that  multitude  is  gath- 
ered together  here.    Where  are  those  who  op- 
press us  with  their  presence  on  feast-days?     I 
look  for  them,  and  am  grieved  on  their  account, 
when  I  mark  what  a  multitude  are  perishing  of 
those  who  are  in  the  state  of  salvation.     How 
few  are  reached  by  the  things  which  concern 
salvation,  and  how  large  a  part  of  the  body  of 
Christ  is  like  a  dead  and  motionless  carcass ! 

"They  perhaps  make  the  summer  season  their 
excuse.  I  hear  them  saying,  *The  heat  is  ex- 
cessive ;  the  scorching  sun  is  intolerable ;  we  can 
not  bear  to  be  crushed  in  the  crowd  and  to  bo 


Th^  Message.  179 

oppressed  by  the  heat  and  confined  space.'  I  am 
ashamed  of  them;  such  excuses  are  womanish. 
When  the  dew  of  the  divine  oracles  is  so  abun- 
dant, dost  thou  make  heat  thy  excuse?  'The 
water  which  I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a 
well  of  water  springing  up  unto  everlasting  Hfe.' 
These  are  the  words  of  Christ.  When  thou  hast 
spiritual  wells  and  rivers,  art  thou  afraid  of  ma- 
terial heat?  Now  in  the  market-place  where 
there  is  so  much  turmoil  and  crowding  and 
scorching  wind,  how  is  it  that  you  do  not  make 
suffocation  and  heat  an  excuse  for  absenting 
yourself?  Here  indeed,  owing  to  the  pavement 
floor  and  to  the  construction  of  the  building,  the 
air  is  lighter  and  cooler.  Whence  it  is  plain  that 
these  silly  excuses  are  the  offspring  of  indolence 
and  of  a  supine  disposition,  destitute  of  the  grace 
of  the  Holy  Spirit." 

In  his  Homily  on  the  verses,  "And  ye  shall  hear 
of  wars  and  rumors  of  wars,  .  .  .  but  he  that 
shall  endure  unto  the  end  shall  be  saved :" 

*'One  may  marvel  at  Christ's  power  and  the 
courage  of  the  disciples.  It  was  as  if  any  one 
were  to  command  men  ignorant  of  seamanship, 
who  had  not  so  much  indeed  as  seen  the  sea,  to 
guide  and  fight  the  ship  when  an  innumerable 


i8o  Chrysostom:  The:  Orator. 

fleet  was  coming  against  them ;  and  the  sea  was 
stirred  up  on  every  side,  and  darkness  was  fill- 
ing the  air,  when  the  sailors  were  at  strife  above 
and  monsters  were  rising  from  below,  and  thun- 
derbolts falling, — then  with  this  single  bark, 
filled  with  a  disturbed  crew,  to  subdue  and  to 
sink  the  fleet.  For  indeed  by  the  heathens  the 
disciples  were  hated  as  Jews,  and  by  the  Jews 
were  stoned  as  waging  war  against  their  laws. 
The  Jewish  race  were  exceedingly  detestable  to 
the  government  of  the  Romans,  as  having  occa- 
sioned them  endless  troubles;  but  this  did  not 
disturb  the  preaching  of  the  Word.  The  city  of 
Jerusalem  was  stormed  and  destroyed  and  its 
inhabitants  crushed  and  overwhelmed,  but  the 
disciples  who  came  out  from  that  city  conquered 
even  the  Romans.  A  strange  and  wonderful 
fact!  Countless  thousands  of  the  Jews  did  the 
Romans  subdue,  but  they  could  not  prevail 
against  twelve  men,  naked  and  unarmed." 


Such  then  is  our  John  of  Constantinople,  a  mes- 
senger to  the  people,  a  great-hearted,  whole-souled 
student  of  the  Book  and  lover  of  his  kind;  who 
seemed  to  know  by  intuition  what  his  people  needed 
and  how  to  distinguish  the  false  from  the  true. 


The  Message.  i3i 

And  so  he  takes  his  place  with  the  mighty  Johns 
who  have  come  to  us  out  of  the  past, — ^John  the  Bap- 
tist, John  the  Beloved,  John  Huss,  John  Knox,  John 
Wesley, — makers  of  epochs,  seers  of  the  vision 
splendid,  dwelling  in  the  light  that  never  was  on 
sea  or  land,  whose  coming  has  meant  a  stir  among 
the  dead  things,  whose  life  has  made  life  lovely,  and 
whose  message,  like  golden  chains,  has  helped  to 
bind  the  whole  round  world  about  the  feet  of  God. 


INDEX 


Page 

Acacius ii8,  120 

Adelphiiis 147 

Alaric 19,  21,  136 

Alexandria 52,  104 

Ambrose 76,  159 

Anthemis,  Letter  to 148 

Anthonj^  St 45 

Anthusa 32,  47 

Antioch,  City  of 29 

Council  of 117 

Insurrection  of 65 

Intellectuality  of. 31 

School  of 174 

Antoninus 103 

Apocrypha 173 

Arcadius,    Ratifies  Council 

III,  Death  of 154 

Arians  4i>  92,  99 

Arsacius 127 

Asterius 80 

Athanasius 25,  118,  164 

Athens 18,  135 

Augusteum 83 

Augustine 52,  162 

Bacchus,  Society  of 24 

Balkan  Peninsula 21 

Baptism  of  Chrysostom  ...  42 

Barbarians 17,  44 

Basil 40,  46,  157,  162 

Basiliscus 151 

Baths  of  Constantine 120 

Belisarius 87 

Berytus,  Law  School  of . . . .  37 

Bethlehem 161 

Bible  and  Chrysostom 171 

Bishop,  Election  of 52 

Bithynia 141 

"Blues"  and  "Greens"...  84 

Bosworth  Field 154 

Brahminism 43 

Bright,  John 169 


Page 

Brutus 166 

Buckley,  James  M 167 

Burke,  Edmund 165 

Burns,  Robert 106 

Byzantium 11 

Caesarea 142 

Csesarius 73 

Calvin,  John 162 

Canon,  The  Twelfth 117 

Capital  of  Empire 12 

Cappadocia 141 

Castricia 102 

Catechumen 119 

Charles  IX,  Remorse  of 154 

Chalcedon 10 

Chalcedon,  Synod  of 134 

Chalmers,  Dr 169 

Charges  Against   Chrysos- 
tom    no 

Chosroes 13 

Chrj^sostom,    John,     Birth 

and  Parentage 29 

At  School  with  Libanius.     34 

Study  of  Law 36 

Under  Influence  of  Mele- 

tius 40 

Abandons  Law 42 

Becomes  Catechumen 42 

Appointed  Reader 42 

Organizes   Monastery   in 

Home 48 

Rescues    Theodore    from 

Matrimony 49 

Views  of  Marriage 50 

Deceives  Basil 52 

Work  on  Priesthood 54 

Retires  to  Desert 55 

Returns  to  Antioch 60 

Ordained 61 

First  Sermon 62 

Homilies  on  the  Statues  .    69 


183 


1 84 


Index. 


Page 

Chrysostom,  John.— Continued 

Bishop  of  Constantinople  8i 

Attacks  Social  Customs..  88 

Reorganizes  Finance 91 

Defends  Eutropius 94 

Baflaes  Gainas 99 

Collision  with  Eudoxia..  loi 
Espouses  Cause  of  Nitri- 

an  Monks 108 

Attacked  by  Theophilus.  109 

First  Trial no 

Deposed in 

Banished 113 

Recalled 115 

Again  Attacks  Eudoxia. .  116 

Second  Trial 117 

Final  Banishment 121 

Writes  Innocent  1 129 

Writes  Olympias 139 

Journey  to  Cucusus 141 

Mobbed  at  Caesarea 143 

Reaches   Cucusus 147 

Joined  by  Friends 147 

Ordered  to  Pityus 150 

Death  at   Comana 152 

Body    Brought    to    Con- 
stantinople   155 

Personal  Appearance 169 

Analysis  of  Power 169 

Extracts  from  Sermons. .  176 

Church,  Admission  to 44 

Church,  Power  of 74 

Cicero 124 

Cleanthes 104 

Clement 104 

Clergy,  Attack  Upon 90 

Comana 151 

Commissioners,    The    Im- 
perial   71 

Constantine 9,  11 

Constantinople,      Strategic 

Importance  of 9 

Topography  of 82 

Social  Condition  of 85 

People  of 87 

Council    Against    Chrysos- 
tom    117 

Cucusus 138 

Dacia 18 

Dante 124 


Page 

Daphne,  Grove  of 30 

Deception  of  Chrysostom. .  53 

Decius,  Death  of 18 

Demetrius,  Eetter  to 57 

Demosthenes 165 

De  Stael,  Madame 150 

Diana,  Temple  of 18 

Dioscorus 147 

Diptyche 155 

Disraeli 63 

Earthquake  in  Antioch 32 

in  Constantinople 114 

Easter 119 

Ecclesiasticism  Growing  . .  44 

Edwards,  Jonathan 166 

Egypt 58 

Elizabethan  Age  in  Church 

History 163 

Emerson  Ralph  Waldo ... .  167 

Emmelia 163 

Engraphin 102 

Ephesus 103 

Epiphanius 107 

Essenes 43 

Ethelbert,  Baptism  of 44 

Eudoxia,  Conflict  with loi 

Repentant 1 14 

Death  of 137 

Eugenius 77 

Euripides 104 

Eutropius  Chamberlain  ...  79 

Character  of 93 

Downfall  of 95 

Eutropius  Reader 128 

Evening  Services 92 

Evethius 146 

Faerie  Queene loi 

Farrar,  Dean 167 

Flavian,  Bishop 66,  69,  74 

Frigidus,  Battle  of. 77 

Gainas,  the  Goth 87,  99 

Galatia 141 

Gautama 43 

Gemellus,  Letter  to 148 

Gibbon 16,  86 

Goths,  Invasion  of  the 18 

Gratian,   Death  of 160 

Gregory  Nazianzen 159 


Index. 


185 


Page 

Gregory  of  Nyssa 159,  163 

Gregory  VII 135 


Heraclius. 


Hermione 51 

Hei'^jts 55,   73 


Herodias. 


117 


Hicron,  Port  of 114 

Hippodrome 8;^ 

Homer 171 

go^orius 78,  135 

Huns 19,  136 

Ignatius,  St 54 

Image  of  Eudoxia 116 

Innocent  1 129,  131,  153 

Innocent  III 135 

Isaurians 136 

Isis,  Worship  of 25 

Islam 13 

^          "               172 


Isocrates 


Jerome 107,  161 

Jezdegerd 154 

John,  Gospel  of 75 

John,  King 135 

Julian 12,  26,  164 

Jupiter,  Statue  of 126 

Justina,  Empress 161 

Justinian,  Reform  of 37 

Law,  Practice  of 36 

Tricks  of 38 

Ivecky 85 

Ivco,  the  Isaurian 14 

Ivcontius 142 

I^ibanus 34 

Licinius n 

Logos 106 

Loyola,  Ignatius 53 

Luther 49,  162 

Lysippus,  Horses  of 83 

Macedonius 73 

Marcia 102 

Marianus i3# 

Martel,  Charles 16 

Martin,  St 52 

Matrimony 49 

Matthew,  Gospel  of. 75 

Maximus 49,  162 


Page 

Meganans 10 

Meletius 40 

Mirabeau 166 

Moesia *     jg 

Monasticism 43 

Monica 163 

Monks,  Attack  of *  142 

Morals,  State  of 85 


Moslemeh 


14 


Nature,  Beauties  of 171 

Nectarius,  Death  of 78 

Nice,  Council  of 130 

Chrysostom  at 138 

Nilus,  Message  of 137 

Nitria,  Monks  of .  ^. 108 

Nonna 163 


Oaths 


39 


Olympias,  Deaconess 122 

Persecution  of 128 

Letters  to 1:^9 

Oratory,  Analysis  of 167 

King  of  Arts 165 

Origen 105 


Paganism 

Paradise  Lost ] 

Paris 

Paul,  Letters  of .'  .* " 

Peter  

Paul  of  Croatia 

Paulus,  Murdered 

Pentadia 122, 

Persia .' 

Pharetrius 

Phillips,  Wendell 

Phcenician  Missions  ...  141, 

Pityus 

Plato  

Pliny 

Pope,  Alexander 

Porphyry  

Preaching,  Direct 

in  Early  Church 

Priest,  Qualifications  of .  .54, 

Priesthood,  On  the 

Procla 

Psalms '  *  * ' 


ir 

106 


/^ 
53 
119 
138 
129 
12 
142 
168 
148 
150 
105 

62 
149 
88 
61 
59 
47 
122 

75 


Restorationism 106 


i86 


Index. 


Page 

Rites,  Christian 45 

Rome,  Loss  of  Prestige...     23 

Rome,  See  of 129 

Rufinus 145 

Sabiniana 147 

San  Marco 84 

Sanctuary,  Right  of 94 

Sapor  II 22 

Saracens 16 

Sardica,  Council  of 118 

Savonarola 170 

Schlegel 16 

Scripture,  Sense  of 106 

Sebastia 138 

Secundus 32 

Severian 103 

Seleucia 145 

Seleucus,  Nicator 29 

Senate  House,  Burned 125 

Sermons 62,  75,  174 

Shahrbarg  13 

Sheridan 166 

Shoestrings,  Silk 89 

Soliman 15 

St.  Sophia 84,  125 

Sozomen 34 

Statues  of  Emperor 65 

* '  Statues ,  Homilies  on  the ' '    69 

Stelechius,  Letter  to 57 

Stilicho 87 

Stylites,  St.  Simon 30 

Tarquin 166 

Taylor,  Jeremiah 170 

Tax,  Special 65 

Teuton,  Tribes 21 


Page 

Theodore 49 

Theodosius 64 

Theodosius  II 156 

Theology  in  the  East 172 

Theophilus  of  Alexandria.     79 
Summoned  to  Constanti- 
nople    108 

Leave  Constantinople 115 

Death  of 154 

Theophilus    of    Constanti- 
nople   148 

Thessalonica 76,  135 

Thrace 136 

Thracian  Troop,  The 122 

Thucydides 172 

Tribigald 94 

Ukraine 18 

Ulden loi 

Valens,  Decree  of 57 

Death  of 20 

Venice 83 

Victory,  Altar  of 161 

Virginity,  Work  on 174 

Visigoths,  Plea  of 19 

Webster,  Daniel 167 

Wesley,  John 49,  169,  171 

Whitefield 162 

Widows 31 

Wilberforce 169 

Winter,  The  Taurian 149 

Wolsey,  Cardinal 124 

Women    of    the    Early 
Church 163 

Zeuxippus,  Baths  of. 82 


Date  Due 


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BW351  .W71 
Chrysostom:  the  orator. 


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